


No Joy Without Sorrow, No Pleasure Without Pain

by dizzily



Series: Late AU [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Established Relationship, Hot Mess Armitage Hux, Kid Fic, Kissing, M/M, Romance, a little fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-06-24 00:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 51,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15618486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzily/pseuds/dizzily
Summary: Armitage Hux is broken. He's trying to put himself back together with the help of Kylo Ren and a little girl he never intended to know. Kylo Ren is lost. He's finding his way, but his journey might take him somewhere he never planned to go. A story of angst, romance, and a little girl.Sequel to The Thrill of Agony and the Victory of Defeat





	1. One: Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the conclusion of the "Late AU" series. Updates Wednesdays and Saturdays. Enjoy! Comments are always appreciated. :) Just as a note, this story is quite different from the first two. It's angst and romance (and a child), not darkness and sex. Because after all I've put them through, these two totally deserve some softness.
> 
> Content warnings include: homophobia, mentions of weight loss, mention of past child abuse/domestic violence (will warn by chapter), and mild violence and blood (will warn by chapter).

Armitage Hux still dressed like a general of the First Order, though he hadn't been a general in roughly forty-five days. For perhaps ten of those, he had been Grand Marshal Hux. For thirty-five of those—and he knew this number exactly, as he'd been counting—he had been Supreme Leader Hux. Supreme Leader of the First Order, which had annihilated the loathsome Resistance and made the galaxy safe once more. Hux had done that himself—with Kylo Ren's help. But... _what_ Kylo Ren? For perhaps ten days, he had been Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, ruling the galaxy at Hux's side, but now...Hux didn't even know where he was.

Hux stripped off his clothes and folded them neatly, turned on the shower in his refresher, and stood naked in front of the mirror. Same slicked-back red hair, same piercing blue-green eyes, same dark smudges under those eyes. No, the dark smudges were darker this evening. If he were able to sleep, he'd look better. It wasn't that he had too many duties to occupy his time. He was busy, but he was a master of delegation. What was it, then? Did he really lie awake nights wondering where Ren was? And when Ren deigned to return to the _Supremacy_ , did Hux really lie awake wishing he were in Ren's bed with Ren's arms around him, keeping him safe and secure from his nightmares? Ren would grant him that in a second, but Hux couldn't bring himself to ask or to accept an offer.

He turned away from his reflection and stepped into the shower. Hot water poured down over his body and soaked his hair. As part of his privilege as Supreme Leader, he had demanded a water shower in his personal quarters. It was one of his few indulgences, but it was a good one. Hot water soothed him in a way a sonic shower couldn't, though he did have to take care not to be reminded of that evening on D'Qar every time he wanted a shower. He washed languidly with "timber"-scented soap—a special order because it reminded him of the smell of the planet that housed Starkiller Base, one of the successes in his career—and relaxed under the hot water. He had an hour between the end of his duty shift—he decreed its length—and his dinner date, so there was no rush to get out of the shower.

When he finally convinced himself to step out from under the hot spray, he turned off the water and dried with a regulation towel. He combed his hair—it was getting long; he'd have to get it trimmed—and slicked it back with gel. He brushed his teeth and pretended not to notice those dark smudges as he looked in the mirror. "Supreme Leader Hux," he mumbled around the toothbrush and stared at the hollow expression on his face. He had craved this power, and now he had it.

After he and Ren had killed Snoke—a necessity after the complications of their indiscretion at Starkiller Base—and then taken down Ren's parents, Luke Skywalker, and the Resistance as well, they'd been the victors with all the power and glory they could have dreamt of. And then, at the moment when they finally could have enjoyed that victory and ruled side-by-side, Ren had given it all up. He had walked away, and after what had happened just hours before, Hux had been...lost. Broken and lost.

With the towel wrapped around his waist, he opened the closet door and stared at the options. He could wear anything he wanted now, but his closet was filled with charcoal gray and white. He slipped into a white shirt and buttoned it up the front. He chose charcoal gray trousers and clipped his suspenders to the front and back waistband. The suspenders were new. He needed some novelty in his life. Then he donned his charcoal gray uniform jacket—new, with the insignia for the Supreme Leader instead of a general—which he had ironed this morning before he hung it up. He pulled on socks, boots, and leather gloves. The gloves made him feel official, but he knew they'd end up tucked into his waistband within the hour.

Then, not allowing himself to mope any longer—a Supreme Leader didn't mope—he cleaned up from his shower, tidied his already tidy quarters, and left to meet Phasma for dinner.

He was meeting Phasma in her quarters tonight for a very late dinner. It would not be their first dinner together in the past thirty-five days, but it would be his first time in her quarters on the _Supremacy_. In his time on the Star Dreadnought, he had seen only his quarters and Ren's. During his reign as Supreme Leader, he had been in Ren's quarters four times and Ren in his twice. Five of those times had been sex and one had been only togetherness. Yes, Hux was counting. The sex had been awkward. The togetherness had been...very nice. Hux had begun feeling things and that made Ren's frequent absences more painful.

He pressed the buzzer at the door to Phasma's quarters and she let him in. It was always a shock to see Phasma without her chrome armor. Until now, the only time he saw her without it was when she coaxed him to meet her in the gym, which she had a few times recently, and when they had eaten together. He supposed that she wouldn't wear the armor in her own quarters, and she certainly wouldn't wear it to eat, so he shouldn't be surprised.

Her short golden hair was tousled and her blue eyes were bright. They focused on him and he knew that she was seeing deeper than the surface. Phasma was good at reading people—annoyingly good sometimes. "When was the last time you got a whole night's sleep?" she asked. She stepped back to invite him inside. Her quarters smelled of food and he saw two trays of it at a table in the living area.

"I haven't gotten a whole night's sleep since I was a child," Hux said. Six hours per night was the most sleep he'd gotten in his adult life and until recently he'd been satisfied with the amount of sleep he had. Lately he'd been exhausted all the time and he still hadn't been able to sleep well for more than a few hours at a time.

"If you don't get some sleep, you're going to crash, Hux, and it's not going to be pretty," she said. She didn't use his title. With anyone else—Ren excluded, of course—he wouldn't have allowed that slip, but with Phasma he didn't mind, particularly since he was trying to rebuild the relationship they'd had before he and Ren had killed Supreme Leader Snoke and stolen his position together without consulting the third party in their unofficial triumvirate: Phasma.

"It's not that I don't _try_ ," he said. He had tried everything. He had drunk warm milk, which he found repulsive. He had even tried drinking alcohol, which he never did, and all it did was give him a headache. He drank tea only in the morning to help him stay alert, so he had no caffeine near bedtime.

"After we eat, I'm taking you to the gym," she said. "You won't be able to stay awake after the workout I give you."

Hux groaned, but he knew he wouldn't be able to talk her out of it, even if he told her he'd already tried running until he could hardly keep himself upright. Maybe she had some secret. More likely it would be a way to occupy his time and have some living company that didn't end every sentence with "sir". He asked, "What did you order for dinner?"

"I don't take the liberty of eating anything the other officers aren't eating," she said. "I wouldn't want them to think I was special or spoiled." One side of her mouth twitched with the jab.

He smiled. This was how their relationship had been before. "Allow me to rephrase my question. What are we eating?"

She walked over to the table, atop which two trays rested. "I think the cooks do this on purpose. They make something that no one's ever heard of. Sometimes I can't even pronounce it, but it's a specialty on Naboo or Trandosha. My theory—" and here she smiled conspiratorially at him "—is that they throw cheap ingredients together and hope that they taste good, and if they don't...well, the Trandoshans never complained."

Hux laughed. It felt good. It had been a long time since he'd laughed. "So what unpronounceable delicacies are we dining on tonight?"

She picked up a fork and poked at the food on one of the trays. "Meat...with sauce...and vegetables...I think."

He sat down in one of the chairs and picked up the other fork. "I'm certain it will be edible, whatever it is." It had better be; she would tease him mercilessly if he didn't eat it. He removed his gloves and tucked them into his waistband. He'd known he would do it. Why had he bothered?

They ate in silence for a moment. Phasma had been correct in her labeling, though the vegetables had a slightly unpleasant nutty texture, but he'd been correct as well; it was edible. He was more grateful now that his status as Supreme Leader granted him the opportunity to request his own private meals if he so desired. He took advantage of this when he ate alone over a stack of datapads, which was more often than he should, but if he ate in the officers' lounge for the illusion of companionship, he took his chances.

"How's work?" she asked, as though they were coworkers who frequently shared tales of their days. It occurred to him that that might be nice.

"Busy," he said. "I work on the training simulations and the training of the children because that's familiar to me. That's what I used to do." He had done more than that as a general, but his early days with the First Order had been all about the training of stormtroopers. Training was the only legacy he took willingly from his father.

"You never interact with the children," she said bluntly. "I see them when I train them. They have no idea who you are."

"I don't..." he began, but he couldn't finish ' _care for children_ '. He didn't want to think about whether that was true and, if it was, what the exceptions were. He had spent the last thirty-five days explicitly not thinking about that—which meant that the thoughts crept up on him whenever he was busy, or distracted, or trying to sleep. He had nightmares about it. Perhaps he would sleep better if he just gave in and thought about children and what had happened thirty-five days ago. "I don't have time anymore," he finished.

"You used to make time sometimes," she said. She considered it for a moment. "Not very often. I thought you didn't care for children, but...." She knew about his past, the secret he kept, and she had never mentioned it before, but he was afraid right now that she would for some reason bring it up.

"I'm too busy now," he interrupted. "You would be surprised how time-consuming delegation is. Making other people do my work is more work than I'd anticipated."

She smiled and let it go, and for the rest of the meal, they had superficial discussions about the work they'd been doing. It was safe conversation with no chance of revealing pieces of his life he'd rather not have revealed, and it was something they had in common. She didn't ask about his personal life and he didn't ask about hers. He would guess that she had about as much personal life as he did: very little, if any.

"Don't get too full," she said as they were nearing the end of the meal. "I'm going to work you hard in the gym and you'll be uncomfortable if you're too full."

Hux had no chance of being too full, since he had consumed only half of the food on his plate. He set down his fork. He thought he might get away with eating little without her notice, but he was wrong.

"What's wrong, Hux?" she asked, planting her elbows on the table.

"Stress," he said. It was true that he was feeling a good deal of stress, but pure stress energized him and made him feel alive. He worked better under stress. That wasn't what he was feeling now.

She didn't believe him—she was too perceptive for that—but she didn't tell him that his answer was bullshit either. Instead, she was silent. He knew this technique. Silence made people uncomfortable and they tried to talk to fill the silence. He refused to fall for it.

"Do you miss him?" she asked bluntly.

"Miss whom?"

She rolled her eyes. "Kylo Ren."

"Why would I miss him?" he said and sighed. "It's stress, Phasma. Give me a little longer to adjust to my new position and I'll be fine. Now, you told me not to get too full, and I'm not too full, so let's go get this workout over with."

She smiled, apparently willing to let it go this time. "You won't be able to stay awake after I'm done with you."

Hux doubted that, but if nothing else, the exercise might take his mind off the rest of his life. An hour of that would be well worth the soreness tomorrow.

The _Supremacy_ 's gym was closed at this time of night to allow the high-ranking officers time to work out without distractions or interruptions. Phasma generally worked out shortly before midnight. If Hux wanted to run, it would be after midnight. And Ren occupied the gym in the early morning before his duty shift began. Hux didn't want to think about Ren.

Phasma had changed into workout clothes before heading for the gym, and she had insisted that Hux change his clothes and meet her there. Hux did not own any workout clothes, so he settled for some lighter-weight trousers and one of his looser-fitting shirts over a short-sleeved undershirt. When he entered the gym, he found Phasma in a tank top and tracksuit pants. She looked at his clothes, raised her eyebrows, and said, "Lose the shirt."

Hux obediently removed his shirt and stood in his undershirt.

"Better," she said, and didn't make him remove the undershirt.

Whenever they were in the gym together, she liked to torture Hux with the pec deck machine, though he couldn't fathom why. Surely there were more interesting and less painful machines that would benefit him as much or more. He was more satisfied with his chest and legs than he was with his arms; she should make him work on those instead. But he didn't dare tell her what to do; this was her realm, not his.

"This is a lat pull-down machine," she said, gesturing at something that was finally not the pec deck. "You sit on the seat, grab this bar, and pull it down. Just like it sounds. Now, sit. I'll adjust the weights for you."

That was the most humiliating part of the experience: her adjusting the weights. It always seemed to take an inordinate amount of time that implied to him that she needed to do a lot of adjusting for someone as weak as he was.

"Give it a try," she said.

He reached up for the bar, sat down, and pulled the bar with him. It was heavy, but not painfully so. "I can do it," he said.

"Good. I'm going to run you on a circuit tonight. You'll get three minutes of weight lifting, three of cardio on the stationary bicycle, and then three more of weight lifting. I'll introduce you to all of these machines before we're done tonight," she said.

Hux looked at the collection of machines and groaned. But he knew she was serious and he knew there was no way he was getting out of this. He looked at the clock on the wall, waited for the minute hand, and started pulling the bar down.

An hour later, Hux announced, "You're going to kill me if you make me keep going." He was out of breath. His heart was racing. His undershirt and trousers were drenched in sweat. It was all he could do to stand up straight after the last punishing machine.

She nodded proudly. "Go back to your quarters. Shower. Go to bed."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, knowing that she hated to be addressed as ma'am. He staggered breathlessly out of the gym and down the corridor back to his quarters. Once inside, he stripped, and he was almost too exhausted to fold his clothes before he stumbled into the shower. He washed off the sweat, gave his body a cursory rubdown with the towel, and fell into bed.

As his body wound down, his mind returned to alertness. All the things he had forgotten in his hour of exertion returned. It was a long time before he started to drift off toward sleep.


	2. Two: Ren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot has changed in thirty-five days...
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Comments are always appreciated. :)

Kylo Ren had found them.

For almost thirty days, he had been working on this project with only brief returns to the _Supremacy_ so that Hux wouldn't get suspicious. He hadn't shared his quest with Hux for several reasons. First, he wanted it to be a surprise when he succeeded. Second, he knew that Hux didn't believe he could succeed and Ren didn't want to be discouraged. And third, he knew that Hux would try to tell him not to bother if he knew. Hux was afraid, and Ren hoped that he would be doing him a favor by forcing him to face his fears. He knew that Hux could do it if he tried.

In the thirty-some days since Ren's pronouncement that he would abdicate his position as Supreme Leader and forge his own path, he had selected a group of stormtroopers—well, Phasma had selected them for him, and made sure he knew what a big favor she was doing for him—and trained them to go with him and keep their mouths shut about what they did. Scouting was fun. It was much more fun than being Supreme Leader. That was Hux's style. Ren needed his freedom. And he had told Hux that he would do something, so he would do it. He was, in fact, doing it right now, as soon as he landed the command shuttle. It was time.

Feeling good—hopeful and energized—he looked at the group of stormtroopers in the passenger compartment of the shuttle, and then focused on landing. The human settlement was small and there were few ships or shuttles in the landing area. He would never have thought to look here if he hadn't spent the last thirty days chasing down any information he could find. That information—never mind his ways of acquiring it—had brought him here.

He landed the shuttle, extended the loading ramp, and started down. His stormtroopers moved to follow him, but he held up his hand. "I need to do this alone. Wait here for me," he said. He almost granted them permission to wander while he took care of his business, but he didn't want to seem too lax. They would find some way to entertain themselves while he was gone. He had made them wait before.

He strolled into the center of town and looked at the dirt roads and small houses, some little more than huts. As he walked, people stopped to stare at him. What was it about him that caught everyone's attention? He got this reaction all over. His dark hair was long. The scar on his face marked him as out of the ordinary. It might also be his black uniform and the black cloak he wore just to look more impressive. Or perhaps the lightsaber hanging from his belt. So maybe he did look distinctive and he should anticipate the attention.

Finally, someone didn't flinch away when he approached. "I'm looking for the Hyland family," Ren said. "Lumis and...Kette." He had coaxed the names out of Hux when he was in that fuzzy post-sex state and couldn't resist. It was more honest that way than breaking into his mind and taking what he wanted. He had promised Hux that he wouldn't do that to him anymore. And he usually kept his promises.

The man looked him up and down. "Are they in trouble?"

Ren felt a thrill of victory. They were here. "No trouble," he said. "I'm a family friend."

That earned him a dubious look, but the man pointed down the dirt road. "Fifth house on the left."

"Thank you," Ren said and strode off. He had learned along the way that politeness made everything easier. Occasionally, he had to threaten in order to get his way. In the past he might have taken what he wanted without asking. But most of the time, if he was polite, he would get anything he asked for.

He knocked politely on the door to the fifth house on the left. As he waited, he realized he was holding his breath, and he exhaled sharply. Then the door began to open and he dug his fingernails into his palms in anticipation. After all this time, what if he'd been wrong? And what if he didn't succeed here? What if he lost everything after getting this far?

A girl, about nine or ten years old, opened the door—and Ren knew he was right. She had pale skin and bright red-orange hair, and she had Hux's lips, that familiar pink curve, and his straight nose. This was Hux's daughter. She looked suspiciously up at him with turquoise eyes and asked, "Who are you?"

"May I come in?" he asked. He didn't want to give himself away until he had to.

A woman appeared behind her daughter in the doorway and peered out at him. "What do you want from us? Are we in trouble? My daughter and I—"

"You're not in trouble," he assured her. Why did people keep assuming that? If he'd introduced himself as Kylo Ren of the First Order, then maybe they would have reason to suspect that he was there to punish them for their wrongdoings, but he hadn't told anyone his name yet. Did everyone had a guilty conscience or a streak of paranoia? "I just want to talk."

She frowned at him. Her hair was strawberry blond, more blond than strawberry, and she had given her turquoise eyes to her daughter. At last, she relented and said, "Come in. I'll make you tea."

Ren didn't like tea, but he would drink it. He would have to tell Hux later how much he had suffered in order to find these women—and bring them back. Finding them had only been the first part of the quest. Next he had to coax them into his command shuttle without using a mind trick. As a Force user, he had been able to make anyone do anything he wanted, but he couldn't do that now. He stepped inside and followed the woman and her daughter down a short hallway and into the kitchen.

She made tea with cold water and powdered tea mix. Ren tried not to grimace as he imagined drinking the tea cold; hot was bad enough. Unlike Hux, Ren was adventurous when it came to food; he would eat almost anything and he was willing to try things that he probably shouldn't. But he didn't like tea. He sat down at the table when she pulled out a chair for him. She chose the chair across from him and her daughter hovered in the doorway, as though she wasn't confident she should be listening, but she still wanted to hear everything. He didn't want her to leave; she was an important part of the plan.

"I'm Lumis," she said, and gestured at the girl. "And this is my daughter, Kette. Who are you?"

He didn't mention that he already knew their names. "My name is Kylo Ren," he said, aware that this was an essential turning point.

"Of the First Order?" Lumis asked.

"Yes," he said. "And I know your, um, daughter's father." He didn't know if they had ever been married and he didn't want to call Hux her ex-husband if their relationship had never gotten to that stage. He realized suddenly how little he knew about the whole thing, and he hoped he wasn't expected to know everything.

She shut down. Her whole posture exuded hostility. This was not a comfortable subject for her, and he didn't blame her. It wasn't a comfortable subject for him either.

"You know my dad?" Kette burst in. She had a greedy look on her face. Her mother glared at her, but she didn't back down.

"I work closely with him," Ren said. That wasn't entirely true. But he did work with Hux. And he was close to him.

"Out!" Lumis said, standing. She snatched the glass of tea away from him and pointed at the door. "Get out!"

Ren calmly remained sitting. He wasn't going to make it this far just to give up. "I know your relationship didn't end well, but—"

"Out!" she repeated.

"But he, um, misses you." Okay, that was a lie.

"Out!" she shouted.

"And he would be honored if you would just—just come to visit him once."

"Ou—"

"Wait, Mom!" Kette interrupted.

Lumis whirled to face her. "What?" she snapped.

"I know you only tell me bad things about Dad, but I kind of want to meet him. I've never met him. And he's my dad," Kette said.

"I've only told you bad things because there are only bad things to tell," Lumis said. "Your father is an ass—is a bad man. Rose to the rank of general by abandoning his family. And I always suspected he killed his own father."

Ren happened to know that Hux had had a hand in his father's death.

"He killed his own dad?" Kette asked, wide-eyed.

"It's a rumor," Ren interjected. "I know you feel rejected by him. He knows he was a...jerk and he regrets it. He wants to see you again. You don't have to stay. Just meet him. The _Supremacy_ has fine accommodations. You won't be uncomfortable and the food is—"

"The _Supremacy_?" Lumis asked before Ren had to lie about the food.

"Hux is based there," Ren said.

"I thought the _Supremacy_ was Supreme Leader Snoke's flagship," Lumis said.

"It...was," Ren said very carefully.

Lumis peered at him. "What are you not telling me?"

"I think it would be best coming from him," Ren said. "Please. You don't have to stay any longer than you want."

"Please, Mom," Kette said.

Lumis folded her arms across her chest. "Just how are we going to get there?"

"I have a shuttle. It's very safe. The journey won't be long," Ren said. He didn't mention the group of stormtroopers in the passenger compartment, but there was nothing to do about them. He should have come here alone, but they didn't like letting him go anywhere alone, as though he were incapable of taking care of himself. He suspected that Hux may have had something to do with that. Hux had been strange lately. Ren hoped that Hux wouldn't kill him for what he was doing now.

"Fine," Lumis said. She looked pointedly at her daughter. "Go pack a change of clothes. We're going with him."

Ren waited in the kitchen and gazed at the tea glass on the counter in the corner. He hadn't needed to drink it after all.

He heard thumps and the scraping of wood on wood from the other side of the little house. He also heard Kette speaking quietly, though he could understand most of the words. She was excited, but she wasn't excited about seeing her father for the first time that she could remember; she was excited about riding in a spaceship. Meanwhile, Lumis seemed to feel the opposite about the prospect of riding in his command shuttle, and she certainly didn't want to face Hux again. They probably didn't think he could hear them, and he would give them no indication that he could.

Finally, the two returned to the kitchen. Lumis looked flustered and anxious and there was still plenty of hostility in her posture. He could have reassured her again, but he didn't have it in him to be that nice. "I'll show you to my shuttle," he said. Lumis locked the door behind them.

The walk back to the command shuttle was different from his walk in the opposite direction. The staring was the same, if not more intense, but now everyone called out to them, asked where they were going and if things were okay. Lumis kept saying, "We're going on a trip. We'll be back soon." Kette waved at the children who were watching them. Ren didn't like the attention, but he endured it. He was grateful that Lumis chose not to tell everyone exactly where she was going. He'd almost expected her to take the opportunity to badmouth her daughter's father whenever it came up, but she didn't. Perhaps she was embarrassed. Perhaps her past was a secret.

"Who are _these_?" Lumis demanded as soon as she got a glimpse of the stormtroopers awaiting Ren's return in the command shuttle. "Did you lie to me? Are we being arrested? Are we being kidnapped?"

"This is my escort," Ren explained. "It has nothing to do with you."

She looked at him, looked from his face down to his boots, as if she hadn't really seen him before. "Why do _you_ need an escort? Are you someone important now?"

Ren thought he was supposed to be insulted by that, but he wasn't.

"You don't look like the weak type of man who'd hide behind his escort, but appearances aren't everything," she continued.

Ren really should have been insulted, but she couldn't get to him. He could see through her insults to her insecurity. He could teach her a lesson, but then she'd never make it to the _Supremacy_ , and his last thirty days of searching would have been wasted. "True," he said. Then he beckoned. "Come in here. They don't bite. I'll let you sit in the cockpit with me if you're concerned."

Several minutes later, Ren was sitting in the pilot's seat and preparing the shuttle for launch, and beside him sat Lumis in the copilot's seat with Kette on her lap. He knew they would not be good company, but he would tolerate them.

After the shuttle had jumped into hyperspace, he checked the time. By Galactic Standard Time, they would arrive at the _Supremacy_ early in the morning. "It looks like we're going to catch Hux at breakfast," he said.


	3. Three: Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pancakes...because I said so. :P
> 
> Comments are always appreciated. :) Enjoy!

Armitage Hux was sore. And exhausted. Phasma had been so confident that her workout would help him sleep, but he couldn't have slept more than a few hours last night. His tea was the only thing keeping him awake through breakfast. He didn't even care what he was eating.

The officers' lounge was empty for his late breakfast. He had finally been asleep when his alarm assaulted him and he'd slept through it for almost fifteen minutes. Then he'd almost fallen asleep in the shower. The soothing hot water had its drawbacks. If he hadn't set his own duty hours, he would be late. But the caffeine in the tea was helping. Once he'd finished his third cup, he'd be able to make it through the day. He'd be a poor imitation of a functional human, but he'd make it.

He was sipping his tea and pretending to look at a datapad when he heard footsteps and looked up. Into the officers' lounge stepped Ren. Dark hair wild, cloak swirling around him, a smile on his face...Ren made something inside Hux melt. He had forgotten how darkly handsome Ren was with his thick, wavy hair and his brown eyes and those pouty lips. Hux wanted to grab him, embrace him, bury his face in Ren's shoulder, and kiss that suspicious smile away. He was getting up to do just that when he noticed what must be the reason for the suspicious smile: Ren had brought guests.

A woman stepped into the officers' lounge. She was tall, thin, with chin-length reddish-blond hair. It took Hux a moment to recognize her, just because he had anticipated never seeing her again, but she had hardly changed at all over the last eight years. He pressed his lips together. Why had Ren brought him the last person he ever wanted to see again?

And then, through the doorway, tiptoed a girl.

Hux's jaw dropped. He had wondered if that really happened to people or if it was just an expression. He carefully closed his mouth and stared at her. She had the same red-orange hair, the same pale skin, but he could tell now that she had his mouth, his nose, her mother's eyes. There was no question that this was his daughter. The daughter he'd resigned himself never to seeing again. It had been almost eight years; he knew it to the day. She would be nine and a half years old now.

He couldn't believe it. He had told Ren that he could look, but he never would have guessed that Ren could actually track down his daughter.

"Is that him?" Kette asked, staring dubiously at him.

Hux tried to speak and couldn't. His mouth would open, but his lips and tongue wouldn't form words, and he knew he couldn't voice them regardless.

"What did you expect?" Lumis asked. She laid her arm around her daughter's shoulders and pulled her close, as though she needed to protect the girl from her father. Perhaps in her mind she did. Hux had never been violent, just neglectful. He had never insulted them, though he had raised his voice at Lumis during their many arguments, but his lack of attention to them had been insult enough; he didn't have to say the words to tell them that they didn't matter to him. Except they had. One of them had.

"I thought he'd be bigger."

"Bigger?" Lumis's eyes lit up with amusement.

"You know...more impressive."

Before they could continue talking about him as if he weren't present, Hux got up from the table and crossed the room to where the two of them stood. He extended his hand to Lumis, to shake, and she didn't move to take it. He crouched down in front of Kette and gazed at her face, looked for the eighteen-month-old she had been the last time he saw her. She had been softer then, rounder, with bigger eyes and smoother skin. "You've grown," he said awkwardly. That was all he could think to say.

She rolled her eyes.

"Would you care to join me for breakfast?" he asked, getting to his feet again. "I could have the cooks put together just about anything you'd like."

"Oh, are you that important now?" Lumis asked condescendingly. "I know you were working toward general when I left. Did you make it?"

Hux opened his mouth and shut it. Ren hadn't told them. He bit back an angry retort because that was what she wanted; that was what she expected. He had to be on his best behavior for Kette. He couldn't drive her away already; he'd do it with his personality soon enough. He wasn't any more of a father now than he had been eight years ago; he was less of one, a lot less. "Yes, I made it," he said and unclenched his jaw. "Do you want something to eat or not?"

Lumis wasn't going to let it go, but fortunately Kette fell for the temptation. "Can I have pancakes? Chocolate pancakes," she said. Greed lit up her eyes. He didn't like the way it looked on her.

"I don't know if we have chocolate, but I will get you pancakes." He turned to Lumis, trying to stay civil. "Do you want something?"

"Oh, don't fuss over me. I'll have pancakes, too," Lumis said.

Hux tried to figure out what had changed in her demeanor and why. She was playing humble, though there was no reason for her to do so. "Have a seat, both of you. I'll go tell the cooks you want pancakes."

"I'm sure they'll be overjoyed to cook for a _general_ 's guests," Lumis said behind him.

Hux pretended not to hear. He entered the kitchen, where two cooks were pretending not to have been listening to the conversation. Glad to be away from the two ladies, he propped his hip against the counter. "You know what I want," he said.

"Pancakes, Supreme Leader?" asked one of the cooks.

He sighed. They flinched, as if they expected his punishment. Maybe in the old days, back when he was General Hux, he would have punished them for eavesdropping. Or if he didn't punish them, at least he would make his displeasure known. They would regret it even if he didn't apply direct consequences. But he had changed. He knew exactly when the change had occurred: it was the moment Ren told him he didn't want to be Supreme Leader anymore, that he was going to run off with a couple of stormtroopers and leave Hux behind with the responsibility for the First Order on him alone. And that was the way it was now...Hux alone.

"Three apiece. And make three of them chocolate if there is any," he said. He observed their surprise, the little glance between the two of them, and looked away. "And hurry." He didn't want to sit at the table with Lumis and Kette and wait for the pancakes any longer than he had to.

"Yes, sir."

Hux yawned, straightened up, and returned to the officers' lounge, where the two of them were waiting for him. As he crossed through the dining area, he looked for Ren, but he was gone. Of course, he was gone. Right when Hux needed his support the most, Ren wasn't there. He hadn't been there to support Hux in his adjustment to reigning as Supreme Leader. Sure, he had visited, had spent some time with Hux, had invited him into his bed, but he hadn't really been there. And now Hux realized that Ren had probably been spending that time looking for Hux's daughter and thinking he was doing him a favor. It was true that he had wanted to see her again someday. Why was he so miserable about it now?

"What do you do around here anyway?" Lumis asked when Hux seated himself across from her.

"Delegate," he replied.

"What does that mean?" Kette asked.

"It means he makes other people do his work," Lumis said.

"That's pretty accurate," Hux said dryly.

"I thought you would have accomplished something by now," Lumis continued. She was insisting on needling him and he was not in the mood to be needled.

_Be nice_. The nagging refrain returned. For the last thirty-six days, he'd cautioned himself to 'be nice' far too many times. It worked most of the time. The rest of the time, he said whatever he'd wanted to say, or did whatever he'd wanted to do, and then had to clean up after himself for whatever mess he'd made. He was getting better, but one day he was going to explode.

"I was commander of Starkiller Base," he offered as one of his accomplishments.

"Was?" she asked. "Why were you transferred? Or were you demoted?"

"I was promoted," he said. It wasn't so much that he'd _been_ promoted. He had messed up and solved the problem by killing Supreme Leader Snoke, which allowed him to grab the position, though at first he'd shared it with Ren. It had been painful, challenging, and infuriating to work alongside Ren, but he missed it now. He would give a lot to share the burden again.

Her eyes widened slightly. He could see that finally he had impressed her.

"So what do you _really_ do?" Kette asked.

"I boss other people around," he replied. When that didn't satisfy her, he tried again. "I run meetings. I read reports. I ensure that everything that needs to happen does so. Administrative duties, primarily. And I maintain my training simulations and work on new ones when I get the chance."

"How about your personal life?" Lumis asked.

"I'm too busy for a personal life."

He was rescued from further questions by the arrival of the pancakes. He was tremendously grateful. He didn't know pancakes could be made that quickly. Kette was thrilled at the chocolate and even Lumis seemed pleased with the food. For a few moments she ate and stopped trying to make him angry.

"What are we going to do after breakfast?" Kette asked.

Hux hadn't even considered what they would do after they finished eating. What did one do with guests on a starship? He was Supreme Leader, so he could take a day off if he wanted to; there was no one to punish him for his absence, though there were things that he needed to do. But he wanted his guests to feel welcome; if he neglected them now, that would prove Lumis right about him. He didn't want to make the same mistakes when he had been given a second chance.

"I could give you a tour of the ship," he offered. That was about the most interesting thing he could think of off hand. "The _Supremacy_ has some things you might not expect a starship to have."

"I've never seen a real spaceship on the inside," said Kette. She had, multiple times, as an infant, but she would have no memory of that.

"Why not?" Hux asked. He knew why. Lumis had never cared for space travel. She had preferred to settle on a planet and have Hux visit her. That had been one of the things that came between them. One of the many, many things.

"I've never seen the need to take her," Lumis said. She bristled with indignation. She would know that Hux was trying to remind her of her weaknesses in front of her daughter, and of course she would resent that.

Be nice. The nagging thought came again. Hux brushed it away. He would try to be nice. For once it mattered that he did.

"Then a tour would be, uh, fun," he said. "The _Supremacy_ is different from the ships I was posted on eight years ago."

"Does Supreme Leader Snoke know that you're shirking your duties to spend time with us?" Lumis asked. "I thought you'd have more _important_ things to do."

"Snoke is not in a position to care about anything I do," Hux replied. He wondered when he would tell them the truth. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't allow anyone to be confused about his status. He would remind them that he was no longer General Hux; he was Supreme Leader Hux. Anyone else—with two exceptions—would be reprimanded, punished, made to regret the error or the slip of tongue. Yet here he was letting someone insult him repeatedly and not even fighting back.

But he knew why: he didn't want to explain how he had come to be Supreme Leader. Sure, the title would impress Lumis—it would finally get her to shut up and leave him alone in that respect—but she would ask questions and he wasn't ready to answer them. He didn't want to talk about the journey that had brought him to where he was today. He didn't want to think about what had happened in the wiring closet on Starkiller Base, his and Ren's failure at Takodana, their flight, and the deception that had ended in the deaths of Snoke, his Elite Praetorian Guard, Ren's parents, and a collection of other Resistance fighters. Many failures and mistakes that had added up to his reign, first as Grand Marshal, and now as Supreme Leader. He didn't want to think about it—not now, not in front of guests, and particularly not in front of these guests.

Why did this have to be so hard? "I can catch up with my duties later. You two are most important right now."

They finished their pancakes in silence. Lumis couldn't come up with any more insults at the moment. He was making a good impression for once. When they were done eating, Hux carried their dishes back to the kitchen to be washed. He even thanked the cooks for preparing something different on such short notice. But when he returned to the table, Lumis was ready for him again. "Are you sure you're a general? I didn't think generals had to clear off their own dishes," Lumis said.

Hux had never hit her and he never would. But if he'd been that kind of man, he would be sorely tempted now. "You caught me. I'm not a general," he said. "Do you want a tour or not?" He laid his hands on the table, breathed in a count of three, out a count of three. He would not yell. He would be a good example for his daughter, who seemed to be watching her mother and father interact. He hoped she wouldn't grow up thinking that this was a healthy relationship.

Hux had no healthy relationships. He didn't know what it was, where it was in his past, that kept him from having a normal, healthy relationship. It was probably his father. His father had mistreated his mother and Hux had grown up without one. He had grown to hate his abusive father so much that he had ultimately had his father killed. But that lack of early closeness had made it near impossible to find closeness as an adult. He thought he'd finally found it with Ren, but he doubted his feelings were reciprocated. He wanted them to be...he wanted it so badly.

"Are you okay?" Kette asked.

He tried to force his face into a neutral expression. "I'm fine," he said. He was not fine.

"I told you I'm ready for my tour," she said. This could have been a positive statement, but it came out impatient and entitled.

He looked hopefully at the doorway and wished that Ren would return to rescue him, but there was no one there. Hux was alone. He took another deep breath, this time steeling himself against despair instead of anger, and forced himself to think about now. He'd have time for everything else later, when he was not in the company of others.

"In that case," he said, "let's go." He led the two of them out of the officers' lounge and into one of the many corridors. The first thing he'd show off was the hydroponics room. It was one of the most interesting things aboard the _Supremacy_ , an oasis in the middle of a desert of steel. "We're going to follow this corridor all the way to the end," he said, and Kette darted ahead.

"Are you always this slow?" Lumis asked.

Hux felt his anger rising again, and he tamped it down. He remembered Ren's regular eruptions—mostly absent now—and wondered if they started like this, by holding in anger that built up until it could no longer be contained. Hux would be nice; he would not explode. Instead of a nasty remark, he tried a different tactic and confessed, "I didn't sleep well last night."

"I don't know how a man can be a general—pardon me, a not-general—if he gets like this when he misses a little sleep," Lumis said.

Hux remembered the destruction Ren had wreaked with his lightsaber when he'd been upset and imagined himself doing the same. "You found me on an off-day," he said blandly. He didn't respond to the comment about his rank. "Wait for us," he called ahead to Kette, who had reached the end of the corridor. One of his stormtrooper trainee children would be walking calmly at his side, one half-step behind, but this was not one of them; this was his daughter.

Kette looked back over her shoulder, and then turned right and disappeared down another corridor. She had heard him and chosen to disobey—and she was going the wrong direction. Hux found himself fighting anger again. His daughter was not a blindly obedient stormtrooper, but she should be an obedient child. He expected Lumis to correct her daughter, but she didn't seem to care.

"Get back here!" Hux shouted.

"Don't be mean," Lumis snapped. "I knew you hadn't changed. I knew you would never be a good father, and here you're proving me right. You can't even handle an excited child. You're hopeless. I don't know why I ever agreed to come here."

His desperate efforts to control his anger were giving him a headache and making his stomach churn. He wanted to hit something—not her, but a wall, that would give him physical pain to distract him from the anger. He would break his hand if he gave in and tried. "I didn't force you to come," he said. "You tell your daughter to get back here. She's going the wrong way."

"Kette, honey," Lumis called ahead.

There was no response.

"Kette!" she called louder.

Still nothing.

They reached the junction and Hux looked right, but there was no sign of a girl. "Fuck," he muttered. Lumis glowered at him, but he didn't apologize. "If we have to look at security footage to find her...." He sighed and rubbed his forehead as if he could press the pain away with his fingers. "Get her back here, Lu. She could get hurt if she runs off on her own." He didn't say that she could disrupt the workings of the ship; he would focus on her safety and comfort instead.

"Don't call me that," Lumis snapped.

"Get her back here, Lumis," he corrected.

There was much shouting and calling before Kette finally reappeared. She had been hiding in a room that was fortunately both safe and unoccupied.

"Don't do anything stupid like that again," he said when they were reunited. He regretted it immediately when she pouted and Lumis glared at him. "Please don't run off again. We were worried," he said, but his hard tone belied the gentle words.

They turned left at the junction and continued walking. Hux was no longer in the mood to talk, so the only verbal communication he gave was directions on which way to go. The _Supremacy_ was a massive ship, so the walk from the officers' lounge to the hydroponics room was a long one, though it could have been longer. Twenty minutes after they had departed, they arrived. He typed in the combination and opened the door.

The room was like a combination of a garden and a warehouse, with shelf upon shelf of plants growing with their roots in water. But they weren't just any plants; they were all food plants, from leafy vegetables to succulent berries. It smelled wonderful, a combination of floral and sweet. Whenever he came in here, he wanted to nibble just a little, something tangy and sweet. He looked for his favorite plant—a pepper that was both spicy and sweet—and wondered why so little of this fresh food ended up in the meals the officers ate. He found himself relaxing for the first time since Lumis and Kette had stepped through that door.

Kette roamed the room and Hux reminded her several times, "Just sample a bite. Don't steal handfuls. We count on the harvest."

"You're not the boss of me," Kette said.

"You're wrong," he said and grabbed her wrist as she tried to yank off a big cluster of berries. "While you're here, I am. Don't take any more."

"You can't make me," she taunted and ran off into another section of the shelves.

Hux clenched his teeth to keep from yelling again and drew in yet another deep breath. The air through his teeth made a hissing sound. He would not yell. He would not touch her again, even her wrist, out of fear of leaving bruises. He would not express his anger in any outward way. He was Supreme Leader Hux; he was calm, cool, collected. He would show anger and frustration only when they were warranted, but weren't they warranted here? He would never let anyone under his command behave like this. But this was his daughter. He dug his fingernails into his palms and stood very still.

"Come back here," he said in a deliberately calm voice. "We're leaving. There's more ship to see."

After some hesitation, Kette emerged from the shelves. Her lips and fingers were stained purple from what she'd been eating. He didn't say a word.

The tour swiftly became quieter and more sullen. After another half-hour, they weren't speaking more than his simple statement of what they were seeing, and after an hour, there was no speaking at all. Hux was most contented that way; they were no longer deliberately making him angry. At last, he gave up and said, "Let me take you back to the hangar. I can order someone to take you home."

"You can't send us home already!" Kette protested.

Hux couldn't fathom why she would want to suffer through any more of this.

"If she wants to stay longer, we'll stay longer," Lumis said. Her expression showed that she knew very well that their presence was a punishment to Hux.

"Then I'll show you to guest quarters. You can order food and...watch any holomovies you'd like," Hux said. "I have to work."

"The duties of a not-general call," Lumis said.

"Always," Hux mumbled. After some trouble, he got them assigned to guest quarters and showed them how to access holomovies and how to call for food. "Lock the door from the outside," he cautioned anyone who might be interacting with them. "I don't want them wandering around alone."

"Yes, sir."

It was lunchtime when he had everything settled. But he wasn't hungry. He was exhausted. And he still had hours of work ahead of him. After that, he could try to sleep.


	4. Four: Ren

Kylo Ren found the Supreme Leader in his office with his elbows on the desk and his face in his hands. When Ren entered, Hux raised his head enough to see who had come in, and then laid it back down. The dark smudges under his eyes were darker and his face was slack with exhaustion. He had confessed to Ren the last time they'd spoken with each other that he hadn't been sleeping well.

Ren crossed the room and laid his hand on Hux's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Hux lifted his head and tipped it up to look at Ren. "I'll be fine. What are you doing here?"

"I'm asking you out," Ren said. He had meant to do this the last time he'd been on the _Supremacy_ , but he had been too busy. He had seen Hux, of course, but they hadn't yet done the one thing that usually started a relationship: date.

Hux looked confused.

"On a date," Ren clarified. "I want to take you out to dinner."

Hux's expression softened and a small smile spread across his lips. It was one of the most adorable things Ren had ever seen, and knowing that he had caused that smile gave him a warm feeling in his chest. "I accept," Hux said. "Where are you taking me?"

"Oh, it's a...room, with a table, and a waiter to bring us anything we order," Ren said. It wasn't the most romantic setting, but it would have to do.

"Please don't tell me our waiter is Mitaka," Hux said. He had ordered for Dopheld Mitaka to be transferred to the _Supremacy_ , though Ren couldn't figure out why. Mitaka was terrified of Ren, though he was less terrified now that Ren no longer terrorized him with the Force whenever he got upset.

"No, no, not Mitaka," Ren said. He offered his hand to Hux, clasped Hux's hand tightly, felt its warmth, and helped Hux up from the chair. Hux was looking at him with what could only be described as fondness, and Ren liked it. He liked it a lot. "I'll show you to our dining room."

He walked side by side with Hux to the doorway, but once they'd passed through, he laid his left hand gently on the small of Hux's back and guided him with a light touch. He thought he heard Hux make a soft sound in his throat at the first contact, but he might have imagined it. As they passed through a cluster of officers, Ren expected Hux to tell him to move his hand before someone saw it, but Hux made no such comment.

The room was nothing special. It had previously been storage for the kitchen in the officers' lounge, but it was mostly empty now. Ren had sneaked in a small table and two chairs and done his best to make it look nice without making it look too nice. He'd told the man he'd hired as waiter to monitor the door and come in when they'd been seated.

The first thing Hux said when he entered the room was, "A tablecloth."

"Out of all of this, the first thing you notice is the tablecloth?" Ren asked, trying not to laugh.

"I—I didn't think you knew what a tablecloth was," Hux said. His face flushed and he smiled. It was good to see him smile.

"Should I be insulted?" Ren asked. He bumped Hux's shoulder playfully with his fist.

"Maybe a little," Hux said. His smile widened.

"Come sit down," Ren said, gesturing toward the table. "Our waiter should be here to take our drink orders any minute."

Hux seated himself and Ren sat down across from him. "Are you trying to replicate a restaurant experience?" Hux asked.

"I'm trying, but it's been so long since I've been to a nice restaurant. I feel like I'm missing something," Ren said. His parents had occasionally gone to nice restaurants, but they hadn't taken him. As a Jedi in training, he hadn't gone to any restaurants at all. As part of the First Order, he hadn't gone to nice restaurants. He couldn't recall the last time he'd been somewhere nice.

"The waiter, maybe," Hux said.

"He should be here," Ren said, looking at the door.

Fortunately, the waiter entered at that moment with two glasses of water. He set them down on the table. "What can I get you two to drink?" he asked.

Hux pondered for a moment, and then said, "The water is fine."

"And for you, sir?" the waiter asked Ren.

"I'm fine with water, too."

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked. And, just as Ren had told him, he said, "I can tell you about our special tonight," and went on to describe a special meal that Ren knew Hux would like.

"That sounds nice," Hux said, sounding slightly suspicious.

"I'll have that, too," Ren said.

"I'll be right back with your meals, gentlemen," the waiter said, and he slipped out.

Hux looked incredulously at Ren. "You went to a lot of trouble."

"I wanted our first date to be special," Ren said. He reached across the table and clasped Hux's hand in his.

Hux gave him that fond look again and gently squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

As they waited for their food, Ren explored Hux's hand. He entwined their fingers and made gentle strokes with his thumb. He used his thumb to rub little circles into Hux's palm. Hux squeezed again, and Ren stilled his thumb and just held Hux's hand.

In the comfortable silence that followed, Ren observed Hux. The tension that had pinched his face for so many weeks smoothed away. His breathing steadied and slowed. The almost imperceptible quiver of muscles held too tight for too long faded from his hand. Hux raised Ren's hand to cup his cheek, and Ren caressed his surprisingly soft skin; he explored Hux's cheek and jaw and throat, his rough fingertips brushing across tender, vulnerable areas, as Hux tipped his face into the touch. Finally, Hux brought his hand back down to the table, where he held it gently.

The food came quickly—Ren had ensured that it would—and the waiter left them alone once more. Ren waited for Hux to try the meat in its spicy, fruity sauce and asked, "How is it?"

"Delicious," Hux said. He frowned in puzzlement. "You knew what I'd like."

"Of course I'd know. We've eaten together before," Ren said. He knew that Hux was picky about what he ate, so when they'd eaten together, he'd paid attention to what Hux enjoyed and what he merely pushed around on his plate. Lately there had been more pushing, but Ren thought some of that was Hux's reaction to the process of adjusting to his new job.

"What do you think?" Hux asked.

Ren tried it. "Good. But you know me. I'll eat just about anything."

"If we went out to a restaurant—a real restaurant—I can see you stealing food off my plate," Hux said. He looked like he liked the idea.

"I could do that just as easily here," Ren offered. He angled his fork toward Hux's plate. "That looks tasty. Can I try a bite?"

"Go ahead," Hux said and pushed his plate closer.

Ren stabbed one of the pepper slices with his fork and brought it to his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, nodded. "Next time I'll get what you ordered." He grinned and Hux returned the smile.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, and then Ren decided to chance it. "How was your morning?" he asked. He had chosen to leave them alone because he didn't want to intrude, but he had wondered later if he'd made the right decision. He hadn't seen them afterward, so he had no idea what had happened. He did know that the two guests remained on the ship.

"Horrible," Hux said.

Ren winced. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hux seemed to consider this for a moment. "Do you want to listen?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

Hux tapped his plate with his fork several times before he started talking. "I thought I'd like to see her again, but I didn't realize that a nine-year-old girl would be different from the eighteen-month-old baby I knew. And I didn't think that her mother would come along, too. I should have known. They...they made me so angry. I've been angry before, but not like this, not like the way they made me angry today. I thought of you. I tried to hold it in, but I was afraid it was going to erupt, that I was going to explode. I thought it was going to kill me not to...not to throw things or punch walls. And...why didn't you tell her I was Supreme Leader?"

"I thought that was something you'd want to tell them yourself," Ren said.

"I didn't tell them," Hux said, shaking his head. "I said I'd become a general, and then Lumis insinuated that I couldn't be a general because I cleared my own dishes, so I told her she caught me and I wasn't really a general, but I didn't tell her what I was instead. Then she called me not-general after that. She insulted me. Repeatedly. I'd never let anyone else do that—ever—and somehow when she did it, I couldn't...I just let her. And my daughter was watching us interact and I was hoping she didn't think that what her mother and I had was a healthy relationship. Like I'd know a healthy relationship," he scoffed.

"I was born out of an affair with a kitchen woman," Hux continued. "I didn't have a mother, not really, and my father was abusive. I think he was torn between hating me for being worthless and trying to make me into something. We were never close. I didn't have any close relationships as a child or a young man. I didn't know how. I had given up, and then...." He reached for Ren's hand again. He didn't say anything, but Ren knew that he meant, ' _And then you came along_.' He was honored.

"What about Lumis?" Ren asked. "Didn't you have a...close relationship with her?"

Hux laughed, but he did so bitterly. "No, and that was the problem. One of the problems. I didn't want to accept that I was gay. So I tried to be with women. I had a series of one-night stands and Lumis was the last. She got pregnant. I was twenty-four. I wanted to help her with the baby. I don't know how we lasted as long as we did. She caught me in bed with a man, got hysterical, and left. I think she thought I would fall in love with her if she stayed." He shook his head. "You were a virgin before we met. What's your story?"

Ren hadn't expected that. "Um...there's not much of one. Luke insisted that all Jedi must be celibate and without romantic attachment, so of course the boys taught each other to kiss, exchanged the occasional handjob. They didn't really like boys. I did. I never dated. I never had a romantic relationship. You were my first, and I really fucked that up, didn't I?"

"We both fucked it up," Hux said. It was true, but now they had a chance to fix it.

Ren reached across the table and brushed his thumb across the dark smudge under one of Hux's eyes. "Have you been sleeping at all?"

"A few hours a night," Hux said. "The nightmares keep me up."

"What nightmares?" Ren asked.

"Some of them are straightforward about children and other things I've messed up," Hux said. "But I have a recurring dream about running from a tornado. It gets closer and closer, but just as it's about to suck me up, I awaken. Every night I run from that tornado. Every night it's the same. I wake up, shaking, covered in sweat, trying to scream but unable to make a sound."

Ren wondered if that was why Hux refused to spend the night with him, but he didn't ask. "Have you ever been in a tornado?" he asked.

"I'd forgotten they'd existed until I started having the dream," Hux said. "Do you dream?"

Ren felt heat flood his cheeks. "Sometimes."

Hux tipped his head back, peered at Ren. "Why the blush?"

"I...um...dream of you, and I wake up...um..." Ren mumbled.

Hux was smiling. Ren would have embarrassed himself just to keep Hux smiling. "You wake up what?" Hux asked.

Ren lowered his voice. "I wake up so hard I have to jack off, but that's if I haven't already...you know. When I'm in my own bed, I can change my pajamas and my sheets if necessary, but when I'm somewhere else, it's more awkward."

The waiter returned to check on them. "Can I get you gentlemen anything for dessert?" he asked.

Hux shook his head, and Ren said, "No." He tipped the waiter and finished, "Thank you. I'll take it from here."

It occurred to Ren that he and Hux had shared a meaningful conversation and a significant chunk of time together without anything going wrong. Neither of them had said the wrong thing; no conflict whatsoever had occurred; and there had been none of the awkwardness that had plagued their interactions since the day that everything had changed. It had been nice. He wanted more.

"I'm going to try going to bed early," Hux said. "Thank you for dinner." He got up from the chair and Ren could see his exhaustion in the way he moved. He needed sleep, and Ren hoped he got some.

Ren got up, too, and caught Hux's hand in his. He kissed Hux, who returned the kiss tentatively, hesitantly. Ren wasn't going to let him get away with that. He hooked his fingers through Hux's belt loops and pulled Hux's body flush against his. "Kiss me," he said.

It was as if he'd released a wild thing. Hux sank the fingers of both hands into Ren's hair and pulled him close so hastily that he almost mashed their mouths together. The kiss was messy, their lips slick with saliva, occasionally sliding off course. One moment Hux had his tongue probing into Ren's mouth, tangling with his tongue, and the next he was nipping Ren's lower lip. He made a soft sound in his throat and this time Ren knew he'd heard it. After a few minutes of frantic, desperate kissing, Hux eased off, and the kiss became tender, little more than lips on lips, mouths only slightly open.

When they finally separated, Hux's face was flushed and he looked happy. Until this evening, it wasn't something Ren had seen in him in a long time. He couldn't remember how long. The tiredness was still evident, but not the way it had been when Ren had found him in his office. Ren hoped that he would be able to sleep tonight.

"Let me walk you to your door," he said.

Hux smiled at him.

"It wouldn't be a proper date if I let you walk home alone," Ren continued. He took Hux's hand in his and walked with him to the door. Once they were out of the room, he laid his hand lightly on the small of Hux's back. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get away with it a second time, but Hux seemed perfectly content to leave it there.

The walk to Hux's quarters was in comfortable silence. Ren didn't feel the need to speak. He was enjoying the company, the contact between their bodies, and the memory of what had happened in that room. It had been their first date—and it had been a success.

"Goodnight," Ren said, as they paused outside the door to Hux's quarters.

"Goodnight." Hux looked as if he might kiss him again, but he didn't. He opened the door to his quarters and looked over his shoulder at Ren as the door closed behind him.

Ren walked silently back to his quarters. It had been a good night.


	5. Five: Hux

Armitage Hux was fleeing from a tornado again. His feet pounded hard on the dirt road and kicked up dust behind him. The sky was greenish black. Heavy drops of rain whipped against his face and bare arms and legs as he ran down the road away from the tornado. But he couldn't run fast enough. Couldn't escape. Couldn't save his own life. He was going to die. The tornado would tear him apart. But just as he felt his feet being tugged off the ground—he awakened.

Gasping, he sat upright in bed. His heart raced and his pajamas were damp with sweat. His mouth was open, as if to scream, but no sound came out. He rubbed his upper arms with his hands to stop the shaking.

He looked at the clock; he had been asleep for an hour. Earlier in the night, after his date with Ren had soothed him, he had fallen asleep for three hours. It was the longest period of uninterrupted sleep he'd had in nights upon nights. But after awakening, he had lain awake for hours, and now it was almost time for him to get up. There was no point in trying to sleep any longer. He would have an early breakfast, and then...oh.

He had forgotten about his guests.

The pleasure of the night before had distracted him completely from the difficult situation that he'd faced the day before, and that he would face again today. But it had been worth it. If he had to suffer through that in order to go on a perfect date with Ren, he would suffer. But knowing Ren—knowing himself—he knew that there could never be another date like that. And even if there were, Ren would be leaving again soon, and Hux would be alone once more. The memories of this perfect date would haunt him the moment Ren was gone.

He changed his sheets and slipped out of his damp pajamas and put both into the to-be-washed hamper in the corner to join the rest of the neat stack. Then he stepped into the refresher and turned on the shower. He didn't give himself hot water this time; he would fall asleep on his feet if he used hot water. And this morning he needed his wits about him because he would have to contend with Lumis again. He couldn't let her have the upper hand, and he couldn't let her accuse him of being slow again. He shivered under the cool water and stayed in only long enough to wash with soap. Then he shaved and managed not to nick his cheek more than once. He finished his grooming by slicking his hair back with gel.

With only a towel around his waist, he did his ironing. He ironed his uniform jacket, his white button-up shirt, his uniform trousers, and almost his white undershirt because he got distracted. He ironed the undershirt anyway. Then he put away the iron and the ironing board and got dressed. The first time he forgot his suspenders and had to go back and repeat a few steps when he'd clipped them onto his waistband. He didn't bother with the leather gloves. They made him look more intimidating, which was good under normal circumstances, but he didn't want to intimidate his daughter. Her mother maybe, but not his daughter.

He steeled himself, took a fortifying breath, and left his quarters. He would pick them up on the way to breakfast.

He had to knock on the door to guest quarters because they didn't answer his comm buzz. Since they'd previously lived in a house with door knobs, it was understandable that they'd respond best to a knock. But it scared him at first as he wondered if they'd escaped and gone wandering around the _Supremacy_ unattended. When Lumis opened the door, he was filled with both relief and dread.

"Aren't those the same clothes you wore yesterday?" she asked, wrinkling her nose as if he smelled bad.

"It's a uniform. I have several," he said. He knew that he didn't smell bad, but that little nose wrinkle made him feel self-conscious. He couldn't let her affect him that way already. Putting him on the defensive was a bad way to start the morning. He was too tired to keep up.

"It's boring," Kette said, having come up behind her mother.

"It's a military uniform. They're not designed to be interesting," he explained. But he could choose a more interesting uniform if he wanted one; he just didn't care. Snoke had worn gaudy clothing, that glittering golden robe, and Hux didn't want to make the same mistake. It was his belief that an officer's clothing should be unobtrusive—and that included his own. It occurred to him that he still thought of himself as an officer, even though he wasn't really anymore.

"Is this what a not-general wears these days?" Lumis asked. "I suppose it must be. It looks a lot like what you wore when you weren't a general eight years ago."

He would not get angry. He would not let her get to him before they even had breakfast. After taking a deep breath, he said, "Let's get breakfast. The selection in the officers' lounge is usually good, but you can order something special if there's nothing you like." He didn't wait for a comment on whether someone of his rank was worth creating special meals; he just walked away.

Kette was sullen as they walked toward the officers' lounge, though Hux couldn't figure out why. Perhaps she and her mother had had a conflict earlier. Perhaps she wished she hadn't stayed. Or perhaps she hated him. He wouldn't know; he didn't understand children.

"My mom was telling me about you when I was a baby," Kette said.

Hux had a sinking feeling. "Oh? What was she telling you?" he asked. He hoped that it was something good or something neutral, but he knew that wouldn't be the case.

"She told me how you abandoned us after she had me," Kette said.

"Did she tell you how I used to read to you?" Hux asked. "I used to set you on my lap and cuddle you close and read all sorts of children's books to you. As I recall, you particularly enjoyed How I Got Home on Tatooine. I would say, 'I rode on a speeder, vroom vroom,' and you would grin and say, 'Broom broom.' It was...rather adorable."

Kette stopped walking and turned to her mother. "You didn't tell me he read to me." She looked almost hurt.

"Do you know how rare that was?" Lumis said. "He may have read to you when he saw you, but he made a habit of ignoring you and me for long periods of time."

"I was working. I supported you," Hux said. "You didn't have to pay for anything when we were together. You could stay home with your—with our daughter."

"Why did you leave?" Kette asked, but she was asking him.

"That topic is not up for discussion," he said.

"Why did he leave you, Mom?" Kette asked.

"Do you not understand the meaning of _not_ up for discussion?" he said.

"It can be up for discussion if I want it to be!" she shouted.

Hux did not shout; he did not react at all.

"He left because that was what he did," Lumis said.

Hux liked that answer. It was meant to be hurtful, but it was a true statement about him back then. He was just glad that she hadn't gotten into the details. He wouldn't have minded if his daughter knew that her mother had left him, not the other way around, but he didn't want to give Lumis a chance to talk about finding him in bed with another man. His daughter didn't need to know that; no one needed to know that. It wasn't that he cared if other people knew he was gay; it was the infidelity that he'd like to keep private.

"Oh, okay," Kette said and stuck out her tongue at him.

The officers' lounge was not crowded at this time of morning, but nor was it empty. He could feel the attention on him and his guests. After he'd made the arrangements yesterday afternoon, many of the officers already knew he had guests and who they were, but some apparently felt the need to stare. He wished he could introduce them and get it over with, instead of letting them guess, but he let it go.

"Plates, tableware, buffet," he said with a gesture at the food.

Even Kette was satisfied with the options. She heaped food onto her plate and made herself comfortable at a table in the middle of the dining area. Lumis and Hux were more moderate and they joined her at the table. Hux wished they had a more private table, but he didn't say anything about it.

"I see you're not important enough to warrant a 'good morning' from anyone," Lumis said.

"I think it's more likely they're afraid," he offered.

"Afraid? Why would they be afraid of you?" Kette asked.

"They're afraid my loser status might be contagious," Hux replied.

Kette looked dubiously at him. "You just made a joke, didn't you? It wasn't funny."

He shrugged and started eating.

He enjoyed a few minutes of silence as they ate. But then Kette broke the silence by asking, "What are we doing today? It'd better be something fun. I'll get bored if it's not. Like the tour yesterday. That was boring."

He had no ideas. He didn't know how to entertain children. He didn't know how to entertain himself either because he never—well, almost never, because he did spend time with Ren and Phasma—had free time that needed to be filled, although even his time with them was fit carefully into his schedule, rather than inspired by time he couldn't otherwise fill. "What do you want to do?" he asked. Then it came to him. If she didn't want to be bored, he would give her something exciting to do. "Do you want to try a flight simulator?"

For the first time that morning, she looked impressed. "Yeah!"

Lumis looked less so. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"It's harmless. I can go with her if you're worried," Hux said. He hadn't been in the flight simulator in many years because he hadn't trained to pilot any ships. He was capable of flying a few things, such as Ren's command shuttle, because that was simple and he'd never flown it into battle. He would never even climb into a TIE fighter. The flight simulator he was going to let her try was a TIE fighter and he was concerned that if he tried it with her—which was certainly going to be a rough ride—it would make him sick and embarrass him.

Lumis looked him up and down. "She can go alone."

He didn't let his relief show. "I would advise not eating an overly large breakfast before you try it," he said.

Kette, for once, didn't protest. She just obeyed. He was stunned. She babbled about how excited she was throughout the rest of the meal, which was fortunately short. Lumis was the only one who finished her meal. Hux ate some and pushed the rest around his plate. When they were finished, he deliberately took their plates to the kitchen, though someone would have been glad to clear them for him.

"I knew you weren't a general," Lumis said when he'd returned. He was used to that jab. She would have to find something else to upset him.

"The training center will be in use," he said as they walked down the corridor toward the training center, which was connected to the gym. "But I doubt they'll be using all of the flight simulators. And if they are, I'm sure someone will be eager to get out of my way."

"You're that much of a jerk?" Lumis asked. "They're afraid of you?"

"I told you they were," he said.

She didn't have anything to say to that.

The training center was occupied by a class of trainee stormtroopers in their middle to late adolescence. Although the _Finalizer_ was the primary training grounds for the First Order, the _Supremacy_ was where new training programs were tested and perfected. Phasma was giving them a lesson in hand-to-hand combat, which they would probably never use, but she insisted that it was important. And from what he'd seen, they enjoyed the physical activity that was directed at a specific goal. Blaster training, which they were more likely to use, would come later, when they were a few years older.

"Good morning!" Phasma shouted, and saluted him with one finger. It looked strange with her armored gloves and her helmet, but it was a respectful gesture.

"Good morning," he called back. He almost returned the salute, but decided against it. He continued into the room that held the flight simulators and Lumis and Kette followed.

"Who was that?" Lumis asked.

"Captain Phasma. She does physical training for our stormtroopers," he said.

"That was a woman?" she asked.

"Yes, Captain Phasma is a woman."

"Are you dating her?"

"Certainly not," Hux said. He pointed to one of the TIE fighter simulators. From the outside, it looked like a large metal box held up only by a rotating support bar in the back. The top of the box was open to reveal two seats with harnesses and the controls in front of them. "I'm going to get you set up in this one, Kette. I'll strap you in and show you how the controls work. When the lid is closed, there will be a screen in front of you, and that's the view you'd get in a real TIE fighter. Okay, get in."

With his assistance, Kette climbed into the simulator and he buckled her into one of the seats. "A real TIE fighter is not going to have two seats, but this simulator allows for a trainer if necessary. You're going to be starting from one of the hangars. The simulator will unhook you, and then you'll be able to take off. If you need to stop, press this red button."

"And it will turn off?" Kette asked. She sounded nervous now. He hoped she wouldn't ask him to join her.

He nodded. "It'll turn off. I'll show you the controls now. Be aware that the simulator is very responsive. It will roll if you tell it to." A roll would be a very different sensation in the simulator compared to reality, but it was an unavoidable flaw in the device.

Her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. He showed her the controls and explained what each did, to the extent that he knew. There were a few things that he didn't recognize, so he skipped over those. She would be adequately equipped with what he could tell her. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded.

He stepped back, closed the lid, and pressed the button to start. The simulator lifted up—that was her taking off from the hangar—and started to move.

Lumis chewed on her fingernails as the simulator rocked back and forth and tipped sideways. Kette was an awful pilot, but that was to be expected. "Are you sure she's okay in there?" Lumis asked.

"She's fine. The harness will keep her safe," he said. He watched as the simulator tipped backward, as she ascended rapidly, and then leveled out again. And then she figured out how to roll—or perhaps it was an accident; he had seen plenty of trainee pilots go into a roll because they bumped the wrong thing and couldn't figure out how to get out of it—and rolled several times before she managed to get the simulator straightened out again, but she straightened it out upside down. And the simulator just hung there, unmoving.

A long moment of stillness stretched on. "Shit," Hux whispered. He was suddenly, completely awake. He banged his hand down on the button to stop the simulation. The simulator rolled back over into an upright position and lowered itself back to the floor.

Lumis saw his fear and panicked. "You killed my daughter!" she cried, and started to scream.

"Shh! Shh!" Hux said as he waited for the simulator lid to open. It was opening far too slowly. The last thing he wanted was attention. But he heard the pounding of footsteps behind him. He wouldn't have minded Phasma's presence, but he could hear teenagers following her. He laid his hand on Lumis's shoulder so that she couldn't rush in too quickly and get hit by the machinery's moving parts, but she batted his hand away.

Kette was still securely strapped into her seat, but her body was limp. Her head lolled forward and her red hair covered her face. She was unconscious, but she wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. His heart was pounding with fear that somehow she was.

"My baby! You've killed my baby!" Lumis screamed.

With an audience murmuring excitedly behind him, he climbed into the empty seat next to her. He gently checked her pulse at her neck, his fingers shaking, and confirmed that she was alive.

Then Phasma was there beside him. "What happened?" she asked.

"She rolled the simulator a few times and fainted," he explained.

"Not the first time that's happened. She managed to keep her breakfast down," Phasma said. Hux was thankful for that, at least. "Why did you put a nine-year-old into a TIE simulator?" she asked.

"She wanted to do something fun and not boring," he said. "A flight simulator isn't boring."

"She's _nine_ ," Phasma said, as if that made his action even more of a mistake.

Lumis had patted Kette's cheek until she'd roused her. "Are you okay, honey?" she asked.

Kette's head wobbled back and forth, as if she were still dizzy. Hux wasn't surprised that she would be. "I was so scared. My dad should have told me it would be like that. I was so scared!"

"Don't blame _me_ for being scared," he snapped. "I told you how to stop it. You could have quit anytime."

"Don't get mad at her for being scared!" Lumis interjected.

"I'm not—"

Kette burst into tears.

Hux threw up his hands and walked away. Behind him, Lumis was comforting Kette, but he couldn't do this anymore. All his adrenaline was gone and he was struggling to stay awake again. Phasma caught him at the door. "Is that your ex-wife?" she asked.

"You know we were never married," he said.

"The kid has really grown up, but she's nine. You have to be gentle with nine-year-olds or they do...this," she said.

"I never would have expected to get child-rearing advice from you," he muttered. "Get your baby 'troopers out of here. I have things under control. We'll be better off without their gawking."

"As you wish, Supreme Leader," Phasma said loudly. She herded her teenagers back their exercises.

Hux was standing still and trying to center himself when he noticed Lumis staring at him. "What?" he demanded, trying not to let his annoyance show in his voice. His efforts failed.

"She called you Supreme Leader," Lumis said. Everything from her tone of voice to the expression on her face displayed her incredulity. It was time for that discussion.

"I told you I wasn't a general," he said.

She marched up to him and slapped his face, and it took more restraint than he thought he possessed not to slap her back. All the anger he had repressed came simmering back to the surface and threatened to boil over. "You _lied_ to us!" she said, her voice raised much louder than it needed to be.

"I did not lie!" He was shouting. He had to stop shouting. "I told you I was promoted. I told you I wasn't a general. You assumed that I was something less, but I did _not_ tell you that."

"And who did you have to kill in order to get there?" she asked.

Hux lost his voice. He stared at her for a long time before he realized it hadn't been a serious question. But he had to pay for his reaction.

"You did kill someone to become Supreme Leader," she said. "You killed Snoke, didn't you?"

"I didn't kill Snoke," he said. Ren had killed Snoke. It had been Hux's duty to kill him, but he hadn't been able to fulfill his duty. He had killed Leia Organa instead, and it had been Ren's duty to kill her. That adventure had been the beginning of what brought Ren and him closer together. They had shared that experience, others leading up to it, and still more following it. Hux missed him right now, missed him desperately.

"That's a lie," Lumis said, and he didn't correct her.

"You killed somebody?" Kette asked. Her face was blotchy, but she had stopped crying.

"He killed the top leader of the First Order," Lumis said.

"So you're an evil murderer," Kette said, though it might have been a question.

Hux had killed—it had been part of his duty—but he didn't consider himself evil. He did what needed to be done. But he didn't know how to explain this to his daughter. He didn't even know where to begin.

"I think I want to watch holomovies now," Kette said.

"Don't you want to leave?" he asked.

Her lower lip trembled and another tear dripped down her face.

He couldn't deal with this anymore. "I'll take you back to guest quarters. You can watch all the holomovies you want there." And that's what he did. In silence, he returned his daughter and her mother to their quarters because they would rather watch holomovies together than interact with him. He was grateful at the same time he was offended. It didn't matter. He had work to do. He had a warm bed to anticipate. He was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Hux...


	6. Six: Ren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a little blood and injury. I don't know if it's enough for a content warning, but I promised a warning for blood, so here it is.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! Comments are always nice. :)

Kylo Ren came into the training center after whatever had happened was over. He wouldn't have known anything had happened except that he ran into Phasma and her collection of teenage trainees on their way out, and she laid an armored hand on his shoulder and said, "Be nice to your jerk of a boyfriend tonight." And she was gone before he could ask why. After she'd disappeared, he realized he hadn't even thought to protest that Hux wasn't his boyfriend.

According to the posted schedule, the gym would be empty for almost an hour in the late afternoon. This morning, Ren had been here, of course, getting in his morning workout as he always did when he was on the _Supremacy_. But this morning he had been too afraid to address the problem he had encountered: good feelings.

As odd as it seemed, his positive emotions—enjoyable though they were—were an obstacle he'd have to overcome if he wanted to continue to use the Force. All his life, he'd been using his pent-up anger and fear and pain as the powerful sources of his connection with the Force. But recently, he'd found a way to manage those emotions instead of allowing them to build up as they used to. So when he reached for the Force, he found himself grasping at something much less intense and much more difficult to obtain.

As a warm-up, he took out his lightsaber, ignited it, and ran through a series of exercises. The hilt was comfortable in his hand. The exercises came naturally after years of practice. Even the crackling hiss of the plasma blade was familiar to him. But as he sliced and blocked, a feeling of dread filled him as he anticipated what he would do next. He latched onto that dread. It might just save him.

Since he had no partner or opponent, he chose the task of lifting objects as his test. He found a pile of training equipment in a corner and stood in front of it. All he had to do was lift a few pieces and set them down and then he would have proven to himself that he could do it and his worries were unwarranted. He almost laughed at the anxiety in his thoughts. He used to be confident in his abilities. What had changed?

He tried to use the Force to lift a ball, but the connection slipped. He tried again, focused, and shut his eyes. He failed again. He thought of Hux, which would once have made him angry, but the anger didn't come. He tried digging for past anger, but he couldn't make it powerful enough. At last, the dread he'd felt earlier, and his fear of failure, solidified into a connection, and the ball rose into the air. He held it there for a few moments, and then let it fall. He _could_ do it. He would need to start meditating again. But now he had other things to do.

Two hours later, he found Hux in his office again, but this time he was standing close to a wall and cradling his right hand in his left as blood dripped from his knuckles, down his arm, and onto the floor. He didn't seem to notice Ren come in; he stared at the bloody scuff mark on the wall with his eyes half-closed.

"Did you break it?" Ren asked, carefully taking Hux's right hand to inspect it for damage.

"No." Hux's voice was small. "I turned into a coward at the last second."

"That's not cowardly. That's smart," Ren said. He had broken his hand several times punching things, usually walls, but he was surprised to see Hux having tried the same thing. He had thought he was worried about Hux after what Phasma said, but that was nothing compared to the concern he felt now. "Let me take you down to medbay. Then I have a surprise for you."

Hux made a little hiccuping sound and Ren looked at his face. Half of it was a grimace of pain; the other half was an effort to smile. Ren couldn't help hugging him; it was a natural response this time. Hux hiccuped again and pressed his face against Ren's shoulder. When he straightened up after a minute or two, he was more composed. "I don't want to go to medbay like this," he said.

"I have the supplies to clean up your hand in my quarters as long as it's not broken," Ren offered. His surprise was also in his quarters, so it wouldn't be a bad thing.

"Just bleeding." Hux flexed his fingers as proof, though they seemed stiff. "And maybe bruised, too, but not broken."

"Have you ever broken a bone?" Ren asked.

Hux nodded. "My arm twice and my collarbone once." He didn't offer any further information. Ren wondered if some of the breaks had been the result of his father's abuse, but he didn't ask.

Ren took Hux's hand and lowered it to his side. "Keep this down if you don't want rumors spreading," he said. He opened the door for Hux and waited, but Hux gave him a strange look. "What?"

"Aren't you going to put your arm around me?" Hux asked.

"I...didn't think you'd want me to," Ren said. He gestured for Hux to pass through the door ahead of him, and then came up to his side and wrapped his arm around Hux's slim body. He seemed slighter today. He laid his hand on Hux's far hip and walked him to his quarters. They didn't pass through any groups of people, though they passed a few officers in the corridors. No one stared. No one seemed surprised. Maybe their relationship wasn't as secret as he'd thought it had been.

Inside his quarters, he hurried Hux into the refresher and pointed to the closed toilet. "Sit." As Hux sat obediently, Ren dug out the medpac he always kept just in case. "This might sting," he said, unwrapping a few antiseptic wipes. He wiped Hux's knuckles and felt him flinch when the antiseptic touched broken skin. Then he inspected the wounds and decided a few adhesive bandages would suffice. He applied the bandages, threw away the wrappers, and returned the medpac to its place under the sink. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Much better," Hux said. He still couldn't quite smile, but the grimace was gone. "Thank you."

"Are you ready for your surprise?" Ren asked.

"I hope so."

Ren led him back into the living area of his quarters and took out the large basket he had obtained with great difficulty. He opened the basket and spread out the closest thing he could find to a picnic blanket on the floor. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing at the blanket.

"What's this?" Hux asked, looking suspiciously at the blanket.

"Come on. Blanket, basket, food inside...." Ren said. When Hux continued to look clueless, Ren continued, "Haven't you ever heard of a picnic?"

One corner of Hux's mouth twitched. "Picnics are outside."

"Not this one." Ren sat down and unloaded the food from the cooler box inside the basket. "I have sandwiches and chips and bottled water and some kind of salad I stole and these brownie pudding things that I also stole." He opened a bottle of water and handed the other one to Hux. "I couldn't find disposable plates or silverware, so that's not authentic, but I do have paper napkins. What do you think?"

"I think I'm hungry," Hux said.

Ren passed him a plate. "Go for it."

Hux was hungry. Ren watched him eat his sandwich and chips and some of the salad. He hadn't seen Hux eat this much since before he'd become Supreme Leader. As they ate, Ren eased over until he was sitting cross-legged with his thigh pressed against Hux's thigh, and Hux laid his injured hand on Ren's knee. It must have been painful still because he ate left-handed, but he didn't complain. Hux was too busy eating to talk and that was fine.

"This is good," Hux said around a mouthful of brownie. Then he blushed and covered his mouth with the back of his hand.

Ren bit into his brownie and agreed, "It is."

Hux kicked off his boots, unzipped his uniform jacket, and lay back with his head in Ren's lap. The black suspenders were stark against the white shirt.

"Do you want to talk, or do you just want to be quiet?" Ren asked.

"I'll talk if you want to listen."

"I do," Ren said. He absently stroked Hux's hair. The red strands were getting long. Phasma's comment told him that something bad had happened and he was curious about that.

"I put a nine-year-old in a TIE fighter simulator and it didn't go as planned," Hux said.

With Ren's heritage, he could have successfully navigated a TIE fighter simulator at age nine, but he wouldn't have put any other nine-year-old in one. He didn't mention that. It seemed Hux already knew it was a mistake.

"She rolled it several times and fainted and her mother was upset with me, and then Phasma called me Supreme Leader and we had that discussion and I shouted and...I know I shouldn't have shouted, but I was so angry. I left them in guest quarters after that—I wish they would leave; I want them to leave—and I tried to work, but I was so angry. I'm surprised I made it as long as I did before I punched the wall. I didn't get any work done." Hux sighed and yawned. "I think that's all."

Ren tousled Hux's hair and watched him smile as he reached up to fix it. "I like your suspenders," Ren said, reaching down to stroke them.

"I know what you're going to do," Hux said.

Ren hooked his fingers around one of the elastic straps. "Are you going to stop me?"

Hux tipped his head back to look Ren in the eyes. He was smiling, but his eyes were half-closed.

Ren tugged on the strap and let it snap back against Hux's chest. Hux gasped a little at the contact, and then reached up to grab Ren's hair and pull him down into a kiss. The kiss was sideways and clumsy and slow, but Hux had initiated it and that pleased Ren. "Would you be more comfortable in my bed?" he asked at a natural break.

"Mm, yes," Hux said.

Ren got up and helped Hux up and walked him into the bedroom. He let Hux lie down while he untied and removed his boots and took off his uniform jacket. But when Ren came back to the bed, Hux's eyes were closed. He didn't open them when Ren lay down next to him. He was asleep.

Ren didn't mind. Hux had told him he only got a few hours of sleep each night, so Ren would let him get that here before he returned to his own quarters. Not that Ren would make him leave. He'd asked Hux to stay the night with him several times, but Hux had always refused. Hux would probably wake up in a little while and leave, but Ren would enjoy this while he could.

He shut off all the lights but one and lay down beside Hux. When this generated no response, he pulled Hux's back against his chest and draped his arm over his side. Hux made a sleepy sound and didn't stir.

Ren rested contentedly for almost an hour, just enjoying Hux's warm presence against his chest and the smell of his hair. He kept expecting Hux to wake up, but he didn't. Finally, Ren asked softly, "Will you stay the night with me?"

Hux stirred slightly, murmured, "Mmhm," and continued sleeping.

Ren smiled, turned off the light, and shut his eyes. He had Hux for another few hours. He would finally get the chance to sleep with him. He kissed the back of Hux's neck and held him close.


	7. Seven: Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I cheated you out of sex in the last chapter, here's a gift. :)

Armitage Hux had to pee. He tried to roll out of bed, but he hit something hard, so he rolled the other way. He was halfway to the refresher when he realized he was still in Ren's quarters, but it didn't matter. The urge to relieve himself was too intense. He made it to the toilet in time, washed his hands, and splashed water on his face. Then he returned to the bedroom.

Ren was relaxing, partially clothed, on the bed with a datapad in his hand. He looked up at Hux and smiled. Beside him, a digital clock displayed the time. But it must be wrong. Something was wrong. If the clock was correct, Hux had been in here for eleven hours.

"What happened?" Hux asked. Had he blacked out? He had never blacked out before.

"You fell asleep," Ren said.

"For eleven hours? That's ridiculous," Hux said.

"I thought you'd wake up when I was at the gym, but I was gone for almost two hours, and you were sound asleep when I returned," Ren said. He looked slightly amused. "How do you feel?"

"Good. Very good. I haven't felt this well-rested since...." Hux stopped to think. It had been at least thirty-five days. He knew that much. "I didn't dream. At all."

"Do you remember my asking you to stay the night?" Ren asked.

"No," Hux admitted. "You asked?"

"I didn't think you'd want to stay," Ren said.

Hux perched on the edge of the bed. "What we were doing last night...do you want to continue?"

"Yes," Ren said. He set the datapad on the table beside the bed.

"So do I." Hux swung his leg over Ren's legs to straddle his lap and leaned in for a kiss. Ren captured his mouth and ran his fingers through Hux's hair, and Hux reveled in the kiss. He gave up control to Ren—still a new feeling for him—and let himself be coaxed through each step. Ren was good at coaxing, with a hot mouth and long fingers that could be both delicate and firm.

He could have kissed Ren for hours and indeed he lost track of time and may have done so. Ren's hands were everywhere—in Hux's hair, along his cheek and jaw, making firm strokes up and down his sides, down squeezing and kneading his butt. Their mouths still joined, he tugged at Hux's uniform jacket and Hux shed it with ease. It landed somewhere; it was a testament to his engagement with kissing Ren that Hux didn't care where. Then Ren's fingers were on the front of Hux's white shirt: he pulled the shirt untucked while Hux struggled to unbutton it as quickly as possible. He wanted skin contact; he wanted Ren's hands on his bare skin, Ren's fingers caressing, that occasional tantalizing brush of a thumb across a nipple. His suspenders were in the way, so Ren shoved them unceremoniously to the sides, so they slid a little way down Hux's arms. Then his white undershirt was pushed up and finally— _finally_ —Hux got the skin contact he wanted.

"Yes, oh," Hux breathed, breaking the kiss for the first time.

"Hang on," Ren said, almost panting, and used the pause to yank his sleeveless undershirt off over his head. He pulled Hux back toward him, so their bare chests were touching, and returned to the kiss with even more vehemence.

Ren grabbed Hux's butt and pulled him closer so they could grind against each other. Then Ren was fumbling to un-clip Hux's suspenders from the front of his waistband so they could get his shirts out of the way, and tugging down the zipper of his trousers, and opening them so he could reach inside. Ren yanked down Hux's trousers and underwear, which got caught just above his knees. "I want you to ride me," Ren whispered.

So Hux did.

Afterward, sweaty and sticky, Hux lay contentedly against Ren's chest with the bridge of his nose against Ren's neck and Ren's damp hair in his face. This was the closeness he craved and the closeness he would miss when Ren left him again.

Eventually, Hux roused himself from the peaceful rest long enough to look at the clock again, and decided it was time for him to return to his own quarters and get ready for the day ahead of him. After all this time spent with Ren, it would take a lot to upset him again. Ren kissed him as he got up, and Hux almost proposed a second round, but he refrained.

"I'll...see you," Hux said.

Ren was getting up too, heading for the refresher. "See you soon."

Hux dressed sloppily. No one was going to see him between here and his quarters—Kette and Lumis were locked in guest quarters until he went to get them—so he didn't tuck his shirt in neatly, and he didn't zip his uniform jacket, and he carried his suspenders in his uninjured hand. Ren was in the refresher, so Hux made a lazy effort to smooth down his hair, and then he left Ren's quarters.

He rounded the last corner toward his quarters and stopped so suddenly he almost toppled forward. _They_ were knocking on the door to his quarters. Someone had let them out. He was angry, and then embarrassed, and then afraid.

Lumis spotted him before he could hide, and shouted, "Where have you been?"

Hux had no answer to that. He didn't want to go any closer, but his feet moved him without his permission. He knew what was coming and he'd have to face it alone.

"You spent the night with someone," Lumis accused. Then she wrinkled her nose again, and this time it may have been warranted. He hadn't washed off the sweat or...anything else. "You just had sex." Her tone was incredulous, but he could see on her face that she wasn't as surprised as she sounded. That was, after all, why she had left him.

Kette stood behind her mother. She should have looked confused—nine-year-olds weren't supposed to know about sex—but she looked disgusted instead.

"Who did you have sex with?" Lumis demanded.

"My personal life is not your concern," Hux said, having finally come up with words to defend himself.

"You told me you were too busy for a personal life," she said. "Was that a lie?"

"You're not privy to every aspect of my life here," he said.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Because you are _nothing_ to me," he said. And he meant it.

She didn't even seem to care about this statement, but behind her Kette was beginning to cry. He didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore. " _I_ know who it was," Lumis said. "It wasn't a woman, like a normal man—a _real_ man—would screw." Her eyes lit up with this statement. "It was that _man_ , that Kylo Ren who came to get us for you."

"He was doing it with a man?" Kette asked. "Gross."

"This is an inappropriate discussion to have in front of a child," he said. His hands were clenching into fists and he didn't try to unclench them.

"I knew it would be a man," Lumis said. "After you cheated on me with a man, I knew you were...that kind of guy."

"He cheated on you?" Kette asked. She didn't need to know this. She shouldn't know this. She was a child—and his daughter.

His fists clenched tighter. "Inappropriate...in front of a child," he repeated.

Lumis looked down at his hand at the same time as he felt a hot trickle along his fingers. Despite the bandages, his knuckles were bleeding again. "You're violent now," she said. "You can't restrain your violent impulses. I'm never going to feel safe around you again."

"You're never going to be around me again," he said through clenched teeth. He realized his mistake as soon as the words were out, but there was no way to withdraw them. He could never take that statement back.

Tears streamed down Kette's cheeks. "You're not my dad," she said between sniffles. "I don't want you in my life. I never want to see you again!" She turned to Lumis. "Take me home, Mom."

Hux felt something change inside him and wondered if that was the feeling of his heart breaking. But instead of the intense pain he imagined would spread through his body, a chill washed over him and numbed him. The emotions he expected were absent. He felt nothing.

"I'll order a pilot to return you to your planet," he said briskly. "If you will wait in your guest quarters for approximately fifteen minutes, I'll see you off and ensure that your return is safe and comfortable. Understood? I thought so. Follow me."

Both of them stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"Or you can wait here until I've gotten dressed," he said. When they still didn't respond, he shrugged. "Since you seem comfortable standing here, I'm going to take five minutes to clean up. There are security cameras. I will send stormtroopers to track you down and detain you if you go anywhere," he continued. "You won't like that." Without waiting for a reply, he entered his quarters.

In just under five minutes, he washed his face, scrubbed off any remaining stickiness, combed his hair, and assembled his attire into almost its normal condition. He didn't have time to iron anything, but he would do that later. When he emerged from his quarters after the promised five minutes, Kette was clinging to Lumis's hand.

"Follow me," he said. He returned them to guest quarters and locked them inside, as the last person had neglected to do. Would things be any better now if they hadn't seen him walking back to his quarters after having sex? He would probably have fucked things up regardless. His emotions were conspicuously absent, but he knew they would return at some point.

It didn't take him long to track down a pilot—one known for his discretion—and explain what needed to be done. He referred to the two as "certain individuals" because they deserved nothing more. He was sure that those individuals would do their best to convince the pilot of Hux's poor character, but he didn't care anymore. He didn't care about anything—and it was a liberating feeling.

As he escorted the certain individuals to the hangar, they looked frightened and acted like they were afraid of him. He didn't understand why; he had shown no signs of violence and his hand was clean of blood. The pilot awaited them at the foot of his chosen shuttle—nothing like the command shuttle; they didn't deserve the dignity—and Hux left them there. He didn't look at them. He didn't say goodbye. They were no longer in his life.

From the hangar, he went to his office, and there he completed more work than he had in the last five days combined. He read reports and wrote some of his own. He called an impromptu meeting of bridge officers, Mitaka included, and used that to gain the information he'd missed. He spent a large chunk of time delegating tasks because he couldn't do everything.

Dinnertime came. Ren did not come to get him, for which Hux was grateful. He didn't want to face Ren in this mechanical mood he was in, nor did he want Ren to see him when he finally fell apart. He knew it was coming, but he would embrace this cold focus while he had it. When hunger gnawed at his stomach, he ordered a meal delivered to his office, and he ate over a datapad.

He stayed on duty fourteen hours, but during the final hour, he felt his control slipping. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, so he went directly from his office to the gym, where he knew he would find Phasma—and some relief. He unlocked the gym door and stepped inside.

Phasma, wearing her tracksuit and doing curls with free weights, turned to gaze evenly at him. "I thought I'd see you last night, even after I told your boyfriend to be good to you," she said. "What happened today?"

"You told Ren to be good to me?" he asked. Was that why Ren had taken him on the pretend picnic? Because Phasma had told him to?

"Was he?" Phasma asked.

Hux shook his head, trying to clear it. "I don't want to talk about it," he said.

Phasma waited.

"Yes, yes, he was very good to me," Hux said. "That was the problem. They...my daughter and her mother caught me...."

"Doing the walk of shame," Phasma finished for him.

He nodded. "And that was the end. They left. Put me through something punishing tonight. I need not to think."

Phasma set down her weights. "Let's find your breaking point. Push-ups, until you can't do any more. I'll count. But take off your shirt first."

Hux stripped off his uniform jacket, white button-down shirt, and undershirt without complaint. His suspenders dangled loosely at his waist. He got down on the floor and started his push-ups. Thirty-eight days ago, he would have been lucky to get to ten, but he'd gained a little muscle with Phasma as his personal trainer since then. She worked out every night. He joined her when he was troubled, which was more often than it should have been.

"Nineteen...twenty...twenty..." Phasma counted. He gave up and collapsed onto the floor. His arms burned. His breath came hard. "Five more. No questions."

He groaned, put his palms flat on the floor, and pushed.

"Twenty-one...twenty-two...twenty...come on! Don't wimp out on me now."

Feeling breathless and dizzy and sore, he rested on the floor until Phasma nudged him with her foot. He promised himself just three more. He placed his palms on the floor again, pushed with shaking arms, and forbade them to collapse.

"Twenty-three...twenty...come on, Hux!"

He couldn't breathe. His vision blurred. He collapsed. Time seemed to slow as he lay with his cheek pressed against the cool, dirty floor of the gym. Then he felt Phasma pulling him into a sitting position and putting a water bottle to his lips. It was probably hers; he didn't care. He drank and tried to focus his eyes.

Just as he thought she was going to say something encouraging, or maybe ask if he was okay, she said, "Let's see how you do with sprinting."

He didn't protest.

Thirty-some minutes later, he was once more sitting on the floor with her water bottle in his hand. He had reached his speed limit. He had reached his sprinting endurance limit: how long he could run at top speed. He got up on shaking legs and collected his shirts. His body was so wet with sweat that he struggled to pull on his undershirt; it stuck to his chest and back. He gave up. He couldn't even gather enough breath to say goodbye to Phasma. He staggered out of the gym and back toward his quarters.

Thoughts returned to him as he showered, and he was too tired to fight them away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just when you think things are going well...


	8. Eight: Ren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: A little blood and injury again.
> 
> So you know how I tagged Hot Mess Armitage Hux...

It was early morning and Kylo Ren had just gotten up. It was a little later than he'd gotten up the day before, because he'd gone to bed later, but this was his usual time. He would have changed his usual time without comment or complaint if it meant he could wake up with Hux in his bed every morning, but that wasn't how things worked. He had been disappointed to awaken alone.

He hadn't taken Hux out the night before because he didn't want to rush things or seem too eager or annoy Hux, though considering Hux's reaction to him the past two nights, annoyance was the last thing on his mind. He had liked the way Hux had looked at him, though he was worried about him. And he had liked the morning sex. It had been a good morning.

He was in the middle of dressing, just pulling his workout shirt over his head, when the door opened and Hux staggered into his quarters. He looked bad. He was disheveled—his clothes were on, but wrinkled, and his hair was a mess. His face was pale and his eyes were red. He'd been crying, but it wasn't despair that haunted his face now; it was anger.

"What happened?" Ren asked. The last he'd seen Hux, everything had been good.

"They're gone." Hux gnawed on his lower lip. He wasn't crying, but he still looked so miserable that Ren couldn't help but hug him.

"I thought you wanted them to leave," Ren said. Hux had told him that at their picnic. Suddenly the picnic seemed a very long time ago.

Hux pushed him away with one hand. He seemed to be having trouble catching his breath. "I did. I did. I'm glad they're gone. But the way...the way it happened. I _hate_ her—Lumis. _Hate_ her." He shook his head, shoved his hair back left-handed. His hair only looked worse. "And I _hate_ myself." He reached up to shove his hair back again, right-handed this time, but winced and stopped.

Ren snagged Hux's wrist before he could lower it again. The knuckles of his right hand were gummy with partially dried blood and his hand was swollen and bruised. "You broke it," Ren observed.

Hux nodded.

"Will you let me take you to medbay?" Ren asked. He already knew the answer was no.

Hux shook his head.

Ren sat down on the floor and leaned his back against the wall. "Come sit with me. Sit on my lap and be careful with your hand." Hux paced back and forth across the room several times, more agitated with each crossing, and then finally sat down sideways on Ren's lap and laid his cheek against Ren's shoulder. Ren rubbed his back and felt him relax. "Now tell me what's going on."

"I feel so alone," Hux whispered. "I can't do this alone."

"What about me?" Ren asked. He was slightly offended that Hux kept his company and felt alone anyway.

"You leave me," Hux said. "And then I'm here and you're gone and I...I...." He sniffed, shook his head, and tried to get up again. Ren held him down so that he wouldn't start pacing again. "I'm sorry. I'm a mess. I was awake the whole night, thinking. Lumis started a fight with me about...my having sex with you, and it started me thinking about all my failures. In general, with her, with my daughter. I spent the whole night going over every little thing I've done wrong and I just...hate myself for making all these mistakes."

Ren kept rubbing his back. "You know...before our trip to that planet, you wouldn't have admitted they were mistakes. I think that's progress."

Hux twitched and shifted restlessly. Ren rubbed his back until he relaxed again, nuzzling his face against Ren's neck. "I've changed," he murmured.

Ren had changed, too. He remembered his efforts with the ball and tried not to think about that. "We've both changed, but I think it's for the better."

"I analyzed everything I'd done wrong and came to the conclusion that—ah!" Hux gasped and winced in pain. He had tried to wipe his face with his injured hand. He caught his breath again and said, "Please take me to medbay."

Ren waited for Hux to ease off his lap, then stood and offered his left hand to help Hux stand. Hux seemed very stiff and sore in his legs as well. "What happened to your legs?" he asked. He hoped Hux hadn't been kicking walls as well.

"Phasma had me doing push-ups and what she called endurance sprinting," Hux explained. "I told her I wanted a punishing workout and she taught me what punishing felt like." He cradled his right wrist in his left hand; it probably hurt too much to hold it any nearer to the hand. His face was very pale.

"Come into the refresher for a minute before we leave," Ren said.

Hux nodded and followed him into the refresher without question. Ren soaked a washcloth in warm water, wrung it out, and washed Hux's face. His eyes were still red, but the tear stains were gone. Then he took out a wide-toothed comb and ran it through Hux's hair. There was no product holding it back, but it looked fine.

"Now I'll take you to medbay," Ren said. He guided Hux out the door and, once they were in the corridor, wrapped his arm around him as both physical and emotional support. And to keep him from bolting, because from the way he kept tensing, he was considering it.

"We're not a secret anymore," Hux said. He didn't sound displeased.

"I'm not sure we ever were," Ren replied. He had thought their relationship—sexual and otherwise—was a secret from everyone else, but he knew that Phasma had known, and based on the non-reaction of the officers the other day, they hadn't been surprised either. It didn't matter to him if people knew he and Hux were together. _Together_. That sounded serious. He liked it.

As they walked down the corridors, Hux asked, "What do I tell the medidroid?"

"Are you not inclined to tell the truth?" Ren asked in return.

"I don't think it's good form for the Supreme Leader to be punching walls," Hux said.

"I'm not sure how else you could have gotten that injury, except perhaps by punching a person."

"Punching a wall it is." Hux sighed and Ren squeezed him lightly. "Why did you make me a picnic? Was it because Phasma told you to be good to me?"

Ren smiled as he remembered Phasma's comment: Be nice to your jerk of a boyfriend tonight. That was before he had known about the TIE fighter simulator incident. "No, I'd had the picnic planned for days. It took me a while to get everything ready." Tracking down the basket had been the hardest part, but he had put a lot of effort into getting the indoor picnic right. It certainly hadn't been Phasma's comment that inspired the picnic.

Hux nodded slightly. It must have been the right answer.

The rest of the walk to medbay was in silence. Hux seemed stiff and sore on their walk, but he straightened up and collected himself before they entered medbay. Ren wanted to tell him he didn't need to look tough in medbay—it was the opposite—but he recalled Hux doing the same thing when he'd been injured on Starkiller Base. That seemed ages ago. It seemed another lifetime ago. That was before; this, now, was after.

The medidroid in the waiting room saw the Supreme Leader and immediately took him into an examining room, which was a small cubicle near the back of medbay. There was an examining table in the center and several chairs against the back wall. Ren helped Hux onto the table and sat down in one of the chairs.

"What is the injury or illness?" the medidroid asked.

Hux held out his right hand.

The droid assessed it. "Boxer's fracture, a fracture of the second or third metacarpal bone. I will perform an x-ray." It brought in a device that must have been a portable x-ray machine, performed the x-ray, and confirmed the diagnosis. "It is a boxer's fracture. You will receive bacta treatment for the fracture and the dermal abrasions. Then I will tape the hand to prevent further damage. There must be no boxing in the future."

"I assure you I will never box again," Hux said wryly.

Ren sat back and observed the bacta treatment. He had never liked bacta because of its slimy texture and unpleasant warmth, but he had to admit that it worked. He watched the swelling of Hux's hand go down and most of the bruising fade, though a yellow-brown tint remained when the treatment was done. The torn skin on Hux's knuckles knitted together and the gummy blood washed off.

As promised, the medidroid wrapped his hand in medical tape. From the way Hux looked at the tape, Ren had a feeling it was going to come off very soon.

Not half an hour after going into medbay, Hux was released. "I need a nap," he said as they were walking away. During the time in medbay, he had settled down. The exhaustion was catching up with him.

Ren took the hint. "You can sleep in my bed if you want."

Hux didn't smile, but he did look relieved. He also looked exhausted. The eleven hours of sleep he'd gotten in Ren's bed had done him a lot of good, but having stayed up all night again would cause exhaustion.

Ren guided Hux into his quarters and into his bedroom. When Hux stretched out on his bed, Ren lay down beside him. He wasn't going to stay here for the whole nap, but he didn't mind resting with Hux for a while.

Hux shut his eyes. "What I was trying to tell you earlier was...I analyzed what I'd done wrong...and I decided that I'd learned from it and I wanted to try again."

"What do you mean 'try again'?" Ren asked.

"I want to go back to the Force-sensitive children," Hux said.

Ren gaped. Hux had wanted to _kill_ those children. That's why they'd gone to the planet in the first place: Hux wanted to kill the kids, the Knights of Ren, and Kylo Ren himself. And he'd come close to succeeding.

"I promised the little girl—Erie—that I'd return. I want to return and do the right thing this time. From my daughter, I know what I did wrong. Now I have a chance to do what's right. I'm going to take it. And I...will you go with me?" Hux turned onto his side and opened his eyes.

Ren had no idea what to say. This was the last thing he'd expected Hux to tell him. "The kids don't like me," he said. But the expression on Hux's face told him that was the wrong thing to say. Hux had been feeling abandoned. Ren would have to make a point not to abandon him. "I'll go with you, but I'll stay in the command shuttle. That way I'll be there for you, but I won't mess things up by getting in the way."

Hux almost smiled. "Thank you," he whispered. "Will you hold me until I fall asleep? You don't have to stay after that if you don't want to."

"Turn over," Ren said and pulled Hux close. He settled Hux's back against his chest, the same way he had when Hux had spent the night in his bed, and draped his arm over Hux's side. Maybe Hux thought Ren was doing him a favor, but Ren liked it. He didn't get this opportunity very often and he was glad to take it when he could.

"Mmm," Hux said softly. "Is this what you did when I stayed the night?"

"Uh-huh," Ren confirmed.

"I'm glad I get to...remember it...this time," Hux mumbled. Before long, his breathing steadied, and Ren knew he had fallen asleep.

He stayed with Hux for about half an hour, and then carefully extracted himself from the bed. After covering Hux with a blanket, Ren went about what he had been doing when Hux had come into his quarters. He gathered up his gym bag and headed out. Hux would probably still be asleep when he got back.

He didn't have as much time as he usually would before the gym opened to the general public, so he went through his exercises quickly, and spent less time on each machine he used in his daily routine. He looked at the space where he usually practiced with his lightsaber and the Force, felt a twinge of apprehension in his stomach, and decided he'd skip that today. Just like he'd skipped it the day before. And the day before that. He had skipped it many times lately. But that was okay. Things would change. He'd come back to it.

Back in his quarters, he showered and considered waking Hux from his 'nap'. But he decided against it. He left Hux a note that told him he'd be ready to leave whenever Hux was, and that he'd be back at lunchtime. Then he went about his day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an ancient invention, still in use today, that allows people to see through walls. What is it?


	9. Nine: Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this story could be subtitled: Armitage Hux makes unwise decisions. :D

It was in Ren's bed that Armitage Hux awakened before the standard lunch break. His nap had been only five hours long, but he felt well enough to return to work. But it wasn't work to which he was returning, not today. He would give that responsibility to Phasma, and he knew that she would be pleased. Ren's note said that he would be ready to leave whenever Hux was, and Hux planned for that whenever to be soon.

After scribbling a note to Ren, he returned to his quarters. He tried not to think about the embarrassing night and morning he'd had, but the blood on his wall was an uncomfortable reminder of his mistakes. Ever since the appearance of his daughter and her mother, his emotions had been out of control. He'd been lonely and unhappy before that, but he hadn't suffered a meltdown when things got bad. As he'd slept, it was as if the anger had been wrung out of him, leaving irritability and regret.

Thoroughly embarrassed, he vowed that he would never let it get this bad again. He'd never go back to how he was before starting his relationship with Ren—he knew that he couldn't and he didn't want to either—but he could remain calm and collected and deal with his negative emotions in a healthier way. That's what Ren had done, after all. If Ren could do it, Hux could do it, too.

He peeled the tape off his hand—it was still sore, but it would be fine without the tape to remind him—and undressed. Unlike himself, he left his clothes on the floor on the way to the refresher. He desperately needed a shower. Ren had cleaned him up a little before their journey to medbay, but then he'd fallen asleep, and he saw in the mirror that he was disheveled. He was never disheveled.

He turned on the hot water and stepped under the shower. The hot spray soothed him and he relaxed, but he didn't let it go too far and lull him to sleep. He washed everything, shampooed his hair, and shaved carefully without looking just so he could have another few minutes under the hot water. It eased the soreness in his arms and legs. He regretted asking Phasma for a punishing workout.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he did his ironing and changed into his uniform. It occurred to him that he didn't need a uniform where he was going, but he didn't really have any other choices. Maybe he would take off his jacket when he got there. He clipped his suspenders onto his waistband and looked at himself in the mirror without the jacket. It was better. But for the rest of his time on the _Supremacy_ , he'd keep the uniform on.

When he was dressed and his quarters were tidy once more, he stopped by his office to grab a datapad, and then went looking for Phasma. He looked in several classrooms, where he thought she might be teaching or observing, and then in the training center and gym, where she might be forcing stormtroopers or the younger trainees through a workout or practice combat session, but she was not in any of those places. He supposed training wasn't her only duty, so the next place he looked was her office.

She looked up when the door opened for him. As usual for when she was on duty, she was wearing her chrome armor, including the helmet. He was sure that writing, which she was doing now, was a challenge in those armored gloves, but she hadn't taken them off. "How's your hand?" was the first thing out of her mouth. Her voice sounded different through the armor, but it was more familiar to him than her voice without.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said smoothly. "I came here for two—"

"Tell me or I'll come over and inspect it myself," she interrupted.

"It's fine." He held up his hand. There was still the faint yellow of a healing bruise along his knuckles. "The medidroid fixed it for me. I came here for—"

"And your arms and legs? Was my workout _punishing_ enough for you?" she interrupted again.

"I'm walking, see?" he said. "I came here for two—"

"Be honest."

"Dammit, Phasma!" he snapped. "They're stiff and sore and I regret asking for anything punishing. Now, if you'll let me speak, I have two favors to ask of you."

"Go on."

"I'm going away for the rest of the day," he said. He summoned his courage to force out the rest. He was suddenly reluctant to admit his plans. Was he reluctant to carry them out as well? He examined his thoughts and feelings. No, the reluctance was in sharing them. "And I need you to carry out a few of my duties while I'm gone."

Phasma lifted her head and pulled off her helmet. Her golden hair was slightly messy. "You want me to be substitute Supreme Leader while you're taking care of personal business," she said. It may have been a question. It was hard to tell.

"That is an effective summary of my request, yes," he said. "If you agreed, I would leave you with everything you needed to complete the tasks I would give you. If you would rather not—"

"I accept," she interrupted. "Why are you going away for the rest of the day? What do you have to do away from the _Supremacy_? I deserve an answer in return for the favor."

"That leads me into my second favor," he said. He hesitated. "I need your advice on toys for a girl child."

She dropped her stylus. "You just got rid of your girl child."

"Different one," he said.

"Hm, how old is she?"

"Six," he said.

She rubbed her chin. "Coloring supplies. Crayons and markers. And lots of paper. Books, too. You can't go wrong with books."

He thought of the _Supremacy_ 's great library. "How do I know what books?" he asked. The library was massive, just like the ship, and it contained the archives of the First Order, as well as the Empire that came before it. There were reference materials for everything one could possibly imagine. Most of it was nonfiction, but there was a substantial collection of fiction as well. Approximately half of the books were old enough to be paper; the rest were holobooks on the more familiar crystalline board.

"Is she going to be reading them, or are you?" Phasma asked.

Hux hadn't even considered that. Six-year-olds were capable of reading stories...weren't they? "I'd be reading them," he said.

"Pick something that looks like she'd be interested in the story."

Hux had no idea what would interest Erie. It must have shown on his face.

"Who is this girl?" Phasma asked.

He shook his head. He wasn't ready to explain.

"Something colorful, and fun, and cute. She'd probably like animal characters as well as humans. And I don't mean aliens; I mean animals...like the ones you'd find in a forest or something."

"How do you know all of this?" he asked.

Phasma put her helmet back on. "I had relatives—cousins, nieces and nephews. Now give me the information I need to be substitute Supreme Leader and get out of here. The day's going to be half-over and you won't have time to spend with your...girl child."

Hux handed over the datapad that contained all the information she would need. He knew she would be eager to take on this responsibility. She'd liked her power, too, as part of their triumvirate under Snoke. She had been offended when Hux and Ren had stolen that from her, made a deal that excluded her, but he had mostly patched things up after Ren went off to do his own thing. Letting her be substitute Supreme Leader would make her very happy, though she wouldn't let it show.

She gave him a sarcastic half-salute and pointed at the door.

A fifteen-minute walk later, Hux found himself standing in one of the supply warehouses. He had only a vague idea where coloring supplies would be stored, but he guessed it would be with the rest of the office supplies. He hoped that the First Order deemed it necessary to possess crayons. He knew they had markers; he had seen markers used and may have once or twice used a marker himself. Paper was another obvious supply, though the First Order depended considerably less on paper than on datapads or other digital or electronic devices.

He strolled along the rows of shelves and glanced at the inventory sheets—paper forms, some scribbled on with marker—as he passed them. He had to walk the length of three long rows, looking up and down at the boxes and crates stored upon the shelves, before he came to what he thought must be the supplies he sought. He realized, as he moved the ladder to look into a box on the second shelf up, that he could have asked one of the warehouse workers to assist him—could indeed have demanded that aid—and yet here he was doing it himself. Did this count as stealing? It was irrelevant. He was the Supreme Leader; he could take what he wanted, inventory tracking system be damned.

He found the paper first. There were bound notepads with fifty sheets of plain white paper; of those he took two. The markers were in a nearby box, along with—to his surprise and relief—a few boxes of crayons. He considered, for just a moment, putting crayons on the inventory acquisition list he approved weekly. Maybe there were glittery crayons. Little girls liked glitter, right?

Hux hated glitter; it was tiny and gritty and it got everywhere and it was impossible to clean up. In his early schooling, he'd been set a craft project that included glitter. Even at the time, he had thought that the project had no relevance to his life and the future that lay ahead of him, and he had shoved the tube of glitter aside in favor of something more practical. And the glitter had fallen and its tube had broken and there had been glitter everywhere. He had cried in frustration trying to clean that up.

Okay, no glitter.

He brought himself back to the present and carried his prizes down the ladder with him. He had obtained coloring supplies. All he had to do now was find age-appropriate books in the library. He didn't know what would be appropriate for a six-year-old, so he'd have to guess. Next time he'd have a better idea. Next time? He already thought there would be a next time. Did he need to check himself into medbay for a psychological evaluation?

He didn't answer that.

He collected his stolen items in a bag—also stolen—and headed for the library.

The great library was divided into four levels with one huge room on each level and a collection of smaller rooms branching off. He tried looking in the catalogue, but he had no idea where to begin. A search for 'children's books' generated no results. He refused to ask a librarian. He didn't want to explain to anyone else why he needed children's books, though the correct librarian might be able to tell him what books were appropriate for a six-year-old child. He'd have to make do with what he already knew...which he admitted was sadly little.

One of the smaller rooms on the fourth level contained books for young people. The majority of them were things that he would have read as a teenager—and considering that the youth audience on the _Supremacy_ was largely composed of young men, that was logical. But there was a small collection of books for younger children, and he selected three of them as potentially appropriate for a girl child. If she hated them—if he got a chance to read them to her at all—there were others from which to choose.

As he strode back to his quarters, he felt apprehension and anticipation in his stomach—another physical manifestation of a psychological phenomenon, but this one was mild and familiar. Sometimes the only way he could identify his feelings was the way they felt in his body. This particular feeling was, oddly, not bad. He almost enjoyed the gentle feeling of uncertainty. That realization almost made him laugh; he might have if his conscious mind hadn't reminded him that laughing alone in a corridor would be judged badly. Hux, enjoying uncertainty? Never.

By the time he was off tracking down Ren to announce that he was ready, there was a new feeling inside him—one that had been absent for the last thirty-nine days. It was hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Answer from last chapter: The window.


	10. Ten: Ren

Although he'd promised that he would go along, Kylo Ren was not looking forward to their trip to return to the Force-sensitive children. He hadn't liked the children and the children hadn't liked him. When the Knights of Ren had tried to kill him for betraying them, the children had saved his life because he was Hux's friend. They had also humiliated him in the process. He would have preferred to leave that piece of his life in the past. But he'd told Hux he'd go, so he'd go.

The old Kylo Ren would have thought nothing of breaking a promise. He had changed. Most of the time he thought he'd changed for the better. His life certainly was easier and smoother now. But he was lacking the passion and the self-assuredness he used to have. Those he missed.

On his way up from one of the lowest levels to the bridge, Ren stepped into a lift and found himself standing face-to-face with Dopheld Mitaka. Black-haired Mitaka's brown eyes always seemed unusually wide—and his posture unusually stiff—whenever he was faced with Ren. It was understandable that he would be intimidated by Ren, given their history—Ren had made a habit out of terrorizing Mitaka whenever he was upset...and sometimes when he wasn't—but Ren hadn't done anything horrible to him lately. He was tempted now to make up for lost time.

"Good morning...um...sir," Mitaka said as the lift doors closed.

Ren couldn't leave that alone. "I believe it's been afternoon for a while now." He selected the button for the bridge. He knew that was where Mitaka would be going as well.

Mitaka flinched. "Good afternoon, sir."

Ren had no idea whether it was morning or afternoon, or whether those were meaningful constructs on a ship where time was regulated artificially. Having grown up on one planet or another, he liked them. "I could be wrong. It might still be morning," he said.

Mitaka's face flushed and he stiffened further.

"I don't see you often. What have you been doing on the _Supremacy_?" Ren asked.

Mitaka looked suspicious and flustered. His training hadn't taught him how to handle casual conversations with his superiors. Although, at this point, Ren wasn't sure that he _was_ Mitaka's superior. He was the Supreme Leader's consort—well, sort of—but that wasn't a rank. "I've been busy, sir," Mitaka said very quietly.

"Naturally, Lieutenant. But doing what?" Ren asked. Mitaka didn't know that Ren was teasing him. Ren knew that without reading his mind. He was tempted to try reading his mind anyway, and he was reaching out to do so, when his anxiety over the Force returned to him. Fear was a path to the dark side—Luke had been the first one to teach him that, but not the only one—and fear gave him power, so why did this fear make him feel so helpless?

Mitaka's eyes widened, as though he felt Ren reaching for him even before their minds touched, and Ren gave him a toothy smile of reassurance. Except he knew it wouldn't reassure Mitaka. Mitaka expected the worst from him, and while Ren wouldn't give him the worst, he couldn't just be kind to the man; he couldn't resist.

"I asked what you'd been doing," Ren said, as if he cared. He cared that Mitaka hadn't answered him, not whatever he was doing with his time. Though if Mitaka was reluctant to answer, it might be something interesting.

"N-nothing special," Mitaka said.

Now Ren was interested. He would get what he wanted to know even if he had to dig. He assured himself that he still had the ability to dig if he really wanted to. "Tell me. You know I can take whatever I want," he said.

Mitaka's face flushed red. His Adam's apple moved as he swallowed several times. Ren tried not to take pleasure in his discomfort, but he couldn't help it. "I have..." Mitaka said, but trailed off. He moved his mouth as though he were speaking, but no sound came out. Finally, he whispered. "I have a...lover."

Ren's first instinct was to laugh, but he restrained it. "Supreme Leader Hux had you transferred here specially, and you repay him by having a...a lover during duty hours?"

Mitaka's face hardened. "You have Supreme Leader Hux as your lover, and when are you ever productive?" The expression on his face was not fear, but vindication.

Ren's jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists, and then reached for his lightsaber. His face heated and he felt his heart rate increasing inside his chest. Then the anger hit—and he embraced it. This feeling was familiar, almost comforting. He knew what to do with anger, how to use it, how to wield the anger and make its target feel not only regret, but also terror. He felt the Force eagerly awaiting his manipulation and he grabbed it, ready to fling Mitaka back against the wall of the lift and make him sorry for his insubordination—and suddenly stopped.

He had practiced this. He had vowed that he wouldn't let his anger control him. There were only so many things he could destroy and he had destroyed all of them. Over the past thirty-some days, he had decided not to do that anymore, and it had made his life easier until he realized that he had decoupled himself from the Force by controlling his anger.

Ren took a step back, released his hold on his lightsaber, and focused on Mitaka, who was cowering in fear. His audacity didn't hold up when he feared for his life. He was right, in a way. Ren didn't have any specific duties to complete or schedule to uphold; he could come and go as he pleased, command Hux's forces if he wished, and spend as much time as he wanted doing silly or sentimental things for Hux. But he had earned this position. If he wanted to—if he hadn't changed his mind—he could be Supreme Leader right now. He had given that up to forge his own path.

"Aren't you going to kill me for that?" Mitaka asked.

"I'm surprised you would risk death for that comment," Ren said. He saw fear and contrition replacing the vindication on Mitaka's face. Good. He shouldn't get so cocky. Ren didn't know if he was officially Mitaka's superior, but he could deal out punishment if he wanted to. Hux would back him up—especially in this case.

"Me, too," Mitaka said.

Ren considered what punishment he should give, and finally came up with something. "You need to tell Supreme Leader Hux what you've been doing, and you need to stop visiting your lover when you're on duty."

"Tell Supreme Leader Hux?" Mitaka squeaked. Ren had never heard an adult squeak before, but that was what Mitaka did. It was almost amusing. No, it was definitely amusing.

"Yes, confess to him," Ren said.

Mitaka glared at him with an expression of _you can't make me_ , but the lift doors opened onto the bridge and Mitaka darted out. "Yes, sir," he said, and disappeared into the crowd on the bridge.

After some time on the bridge, where Ren was reminded that he no longer had anything to contribute—his responsibilities were elsewhere now—he returned to his quarters for lunch, as he'd promised Hux in his note. Instead of Hux's presence there, Ren found a note telling him to meet Hux in the hangar at a certain time. He checked the clock. He had fifteen minutes.

Regretting once more that he had agreed to this, Ren stopped in the officers' lounge to grab a snack, and then headed for the hangar.

Hux was awaiting him at the foot of the command shuttle. He looked much better. The person who had come into his quarters this morning with tear stains and a broken hand had not been Hux. This was Hux. Ren could not reconcile the two. He was glad to have the real Hux back, even if he wasn't glad to be escorting him on this mission.

"Are you ready?" Hux asked. He was carrying a bag under his arm.

"As I'll ever be," Ren said.

He walked up the loading ramp and into the command shuttle. She was new; Ren had acquired her shortly after the mess at Starkiller Base, in which his first command shuttle had been destroyed, along with a portion of the hangar. The new command shuttle was Upsilon-class, just like the first, and almost identical to her predecessor. But the new shuttle felt different, somehow, a slightly different experience to fly, a different connection between the two of them—man and ship. He waited for Hux to sit down in the co-pilot's seat, and then raised the loading ramp and started systems checks and pre-flight procedures. These motions, automatic by now, were comfortable and familiar.

He got clearance to depart and took the shuttle out of the hangar and into open space. On this journey, there was little to do beyond programming in a hyperspace course and engaging the hyperdrive. If all went as planned, they would travel for roughly an hour before arrival. He would have been content to gaze out into space for the whole time—it was almost a form of meditation for him—but of course Hux would want to talk.

"What do you do when you work out?" Hux asked.

It was not the question Ren expected, but it wasn't a bad one. "I warm up. I do strength training on some of the gym equipment. Each day I focus on a different area, so I'm not working everything at once. Sometimes I do cardio. I use the punching bag. I used to do that more. It helped to work out my anger. And of course I practice with my lightsaber." He used to practice with the Force during his workouts, but that element had come in less and less lately. Someday he would need to use the Force. Would he be able to reach it, to wield it? He didn't know. That uncertainty stirred a low level of dread inside him, a feeling that he knew to be useless. "You could work out with me sometime, instead of with your personal trainer."

Hux gave him a half-smile. "You'd crush me."

"Phasma is harder on you than I'd ever be," Ren said.

"She'd be offended if I started working out with you," Hux said.

Ren nodded. "Don't piss off Phasma. You need her. There's no one else capable of filling in for you. Particularly not...Lieutenant Mitaka."

Hux's forehead wrinkled and Ren knew he was debating which part of his statement to address first. Ren knew him well. He would want to say something about Phasma. He would wonder how Ren knew that Phasma was filling in for him. And he would be curious about the mention of Mitaka. It would be one of these three things that he chose; Ren knew him well enough to know those were the options, but not well enough to know which one was most intriguing. "Why do you bring up Lieutenant Mitaka?" Hux asked.

"Oh, I believe Mitaka has something to tell you," Ren said. He could feel his smile turning wolfish and tried to contain it.

Hux folded his arms over his chest. "Tell me more."

"I told Mitaka he'd have to confess to you," Ren said, leading Hux along.

"Is this some gossip he's told you?" Hux asked.

"Not gossip. He divulged to me what he's been doing lately—but I insisted that he tell you," Ren said. "Don't tell me he forgot."

"I'm sure he'll tell me as soon as he sees me," Hux said. He had confidence in Mitaka. It was undeserved.

"He also insulted us," Ren said.

"What!"

"Well, me."

"Dammit, Ren, just tell me," Hux snapped. "I'm tired of being strung along."

"But I insisted that Mitaka tell you him—" Ren started, but cut off his words when Hux's glare intensified. "Okay, fine. He's been seeing a lover during duty hours."

"What!" Hux repeated.

"That's what he told me when I asked him what he'd been doing," Ren said.

Hux laced his fingers together. "What about this insult you mentioned?"

"He said I was nothing more than your lover and I did nothing productive," Ren said.

At this, Hux fell silent.

Ren waited. When Hux said nothing more, Ren asked, "What, do you agree?"

"No," Hux said quietly. But there was something going on in his head, something on his mind that he seemed not to want to voice.

"Come on. Talk to me," Ren said.

"If a nobody like Lieutenant Mitaka is using our relationship against you—against us—already, what are the people whose opinions matter going to say?" Hux asked.

"That's why I was keeping _us_ a secret," Ren said.

"A lot of good that did," Hux muttered.

Ren reached over and patted Hux's shoulder. "We'll get through it."

Hux sighed and forced a smile and caught Ren's hand in his. His hand looked much better. The tape was gone, of course, but a yellowish bruise remained.

"How are you doing?" Ren asked.

"Conflicted, but okay. I hated her and myself and...and the whole galaxy, but then I slept and everything sort of smoothed out. I've mostly forgiven myself...and the galaxy."

"A good nap works wonders," Ren said. He wouldn't bring up 'her'. He would be happy never to mention her again. He had been a fool to surprise Hux with her in the first place, but he'd thought he was doing Hux a favor.

"I like your bed," Hux said.

Ren hesitated. "You know, you could sleep in it more often, if you wanted."

Hux gave him a crooked smile. "I'll take that under consideration." He squeezed Ren's hand and turned to gaze out at space.

Ren held his hand in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How can you throw a ball as hard as you can, and make it stop and return to you, without hitting anything and with nothing attached to it?


	11. Eleven: Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some of the fluff I promised! :D

As the command shuttle was landing on the surface of the planet, in the same place their shuttle had landed before, Armitage Hux's mind was a frenzy of activity and anxiety. As planned, he peeled off his uniform jacket—and the blaster that he brought with him into potentially dangerous situations—to leave just his white shirt and black suspenders, and he tried to convince himself that this made him ready. Inside, he was anything but ready.

Hux looked down at his clothes. He still looked stiff and formal. Right now he was looking for something else, for a softer, more inviting look. But he couldn't change his clothes now—and he couldn't change them in his own quarters either, because he didn't own anything between stiff formality and regulation pajamas. He didn't even own workout clothes. And he'd never imagined that he'd need them. He'd never anticipated his life would go in this direction.

He stood in the cockpit of the command shuttle and looked out at the forest around it. From this angle, he couldn't see the house and the playhouse that he knew would be there. All he had to do was walk down the loading ramp and cross the short distance between the shuttle and the house. And hope that she was still there. What would he do if she weren't still there? He wasn't sure he'd ever get over it if he'd lost his chance to do this right.

Ren laid his hand on Hux's back and rubbed soothingly. Hux felt guilty; he didn't deserve soothing. A low level of dread was building inside of him as he remembered what had happened the last time he'd come to this planet. He had come intending to kill the Force-sensitive children. It had been an accident that he'd gotten attached to one. If it hadn't been for her, they would all be dead now: the children, Ren, Hux himself...all of them. But he had liked Erie. She had reminded him of his own daughter—the good memories of the past, not the painful ones of the present—and he had _liked_ her.

It was because of this liking that she was still alive. It was because of this that her friends were still alive. And Ren—they had saved Ren's life when the Knights of Ren had been about to kill him. And they had saved it because he was Hux's _friend_. They hadn't really been friends then, but it was on that mission that everything had changed. Hux had realized that he had feelings for Ren, feelings beyond the hatred that he'd felt—thought he'd felt—until that time. Ren had been good to him, kind to him, even when Hux had been the opposite. But this wasn't the time to look back; he should be looking forward now.

Ren's hand left his back and Hux straightened up. It was time.

Ren lowered the loading ramp and Hux strode down it as if he felt confident in himself. He paused when his feet touched soft ground, looked over his shoulder, and then started across the wooded area toward the house.

The house was large, several stories tall, and made of some kind of stone. He had noticed this the first time—noticed that the house and the playhouse had this same sort of stone siding—and it had mattered to him then. It didn't matter to him now. As he stared at it, he found himself walking slower and slower until he'd almost stopped. He scolded himself and walked at a normal pace.

He was still a ways from the house when the door flew open and a little red-haired girl ran outside and flung herself into his arms. He caught her, swung her around, and set her back on her feet in front of him. "Erie," he said, and he heard the pleasure in his voice.

"Armie!" she cried, wrapping her arms around him. She came up only a little past his waist. "I thought you weren't coming back. You promised! Oh, did you bring me a present?"

"I'll get it in a minute," he said. He wanted a chance to observe her before he engaged too much. "Are you going to invite me inside?"

"Oh, um." She shifted back and forth from one foot to another several times. "Yes!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the house. He followed obediently.

The oldest child of the seven opened the door for them as they approached. He looked about fourteen with scruffy dark hair and a gangling build. "JJ," he said, by way of introduction, which Hux appreciated, having not bothered to remember names the last time. "And your name was...?"

"Armitage Hux," he said.

"The name sounds familiar," the boy said, squinting at him.

"I have a high rank within my organization. It's possible you've heard my name," Hux explained. He expected further questions, but JJ didn't pursue the matter.

The other girl of the group met them in the entryway. She appeared to be eleven or twelve, somewhere in the awkward pre-adolescent years, with brown skin and striking amber eyes. "Hello," she said to Hux. "I didn't think you were going to come back."

"I had other matters to attend to first," he explained. Again he expected further questions, but the girl didn't pursue the matter.

"I'm sure you don't remember my name. It's Cay," she said. Then she turned to Erie. "Let's get our guest a snack, okay?"

"Okay!" Erie said and finally released his hand. She looked over her shoulder at him several times as she followed Cay down the hall toward the kitchen. "I don't know if he's hungry," he heard her say from the kitchen.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind a snack," Cay said. He could hear her opening cupboards and disturbing something that clinked as she touched it. "Do you want milk or juice?"

"Milk," Erie said confidently. After a pause, she corrected, "No, juice."

"Which one?" Cay asked. "I'm pouring the drinks right now."

"Juice...milk...no, juice...no...."

"Careful! You're going to break the glass."

"Can I have both?" Erie asked.

"Only if you want them in the same glass."

There was a long pause, and then Erie said, "Water."

The tap ran, and then turned off. "Go ask Mr. Hux if he wants milk or juice or water."

Hux smiled. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had called him Mr. Hux. It was possible that no one had ever called him that. He had been Armitage, Hux, Lieutenant Hux, General Hux, Grand Marshal Hux, and now Supreme Leader Hux. But mister? No, he didn't think he'd ever been mister.

He realized he was standing alone in the entryway. JJ had disappeared into the living room, where it sounded like several of the other children were conversing or playing. Hux followed slowly.

Erie caught up with him near the doorway to the living room. She carried a glass of water in one hand. "You want water like me, right, Armie?" she asked.

Hux would have drunk juice or water, but not milk. He didn't argue. "Yes, I'd like water."

She pushed her glass of water into his hand and ran off down the hallway back to the kitchen. "He wants water!" she shouted. Her bare feet slapped against the floor, loud but quieter than a grown adult's footsteps would have been. He noticed for the first time how tiny her feet were—tiny and pale and fragile.

"Shut up, Erie!" one of the boys yelled from the living room.

"Be nice. She's just a kid," said one of the other boys. It amused Hux that another child would be calling a six-year-old just a kid, when he was probably only a few years older. He wondered, not for the first time, how these children had ended up here alone and isolated from the rest of society.

"Use your indoor voice," Cay was saying in the kitchen, as the boys were talking in the living room.

Carrying the glass of water, Hux passed through the doorway into the living room and seated himself on one of the sofas. The five boys were all in the living room. The oldest was reading from a datapad. The youngest two were playing a board game that Hux didn't recognize. One of the middle two was doing mathematics exercises and the other lay on his back on the floor and stared at the ceiling. Hux recognized one of the youngest as the boy who had insisted he was in a bad mood because his blood sugar—he'd called it blood salt—was too low. None of the boys seemed to notice his entrance.

Cay walked slowly into the living room carrying a tray covered in filled glasses and crackers with dip. He'd seen the tray before, on his first visit here, and he felt a sliver of discontent in his stomach, but he pushed it away. Erie followed behind with another glass of water. She sat down beside him and Cay laid the tray on the low table in the center of the living room. She had to push the mathematics exercise sheets out of the way. He guessed that she was the mother of the group, though she wasn't the oldest.

"Are you going to eat this time, Armie?" Erie asked.

"Yes, of course," he said. He wasn't really hungry, but he wasn't full either, and regardless one needn't be hungry to eat crackers and drink water.

The boys swarmed on the food, with only Cay and Erie holding back. Erie seemed to think holding Hux's hand was more important than the food. Her clinginess made him regret not returning sooner. She had missed him. All but the oldest boy dipped their crackers into the dip and hovered around the dish with crackers in their hands.

"Use plates, you animals. We have a guest," JJ said.

The boys looked at Hux, as if noticing him for the first time. They scooped dip onto plates using the crackers and retreated to the other sofas. Then Erie and Cay went for the food. Erie brought Hux back a plate first—very considerate of her—and then returned with her own. Her manner of eating was less considerate, stuffing food into her mouth, and she rocked back and forth as she ate, as though she were unable to sit still.

"So...um...what do you do, Mr. Hux?" Cay asked. She was eating politely.

"I'm in the military. My job is to tell other people what to do," he explained.

Erie giggled.

"You're the type to take your work with you, wherever you go, right?" asked JJ.

"Not necessarily," Hux said. "Mostly I just don't go anywhere."

Both JJ and Cay smiled at this. "I can tell because you're overdressed," JJ said.

Hux nodded. It was true. "I left the rest of my uniform in the shuttle," he said.

"You usually dress better than this?" Erie asked.

"Yes," he said.

She looked impressed. She was still fidgeting as she ate. He glanced over at the other boys, and heard a thump. He looked back at Erie, who had fidgeted herself off the couch. Sitting on the floor, with her empty plate and her spilled water glass beside her, she looked up at him as if asking how she had gotten down there.

No one made a big deal out of it. Cay picked up the dishes and set them on the table. Erie climbed back up onto the couch. She sat still this time. From the non-reactions of the other children, Hux guessed that this wasn't the first time she'd done that.

He remembered that he'd agreed to eat, but he'd gotten distracted. He ate a few crackers before anyone could call him on it. The crackers were salty and the dip mildly spicy; neither was remarkable in any way. He wondered what mealtime looked like in this household. One of them must know how to cook, and he suspected it was Cay. Maybe sometime he'd stay for a meal. He couldn't offer to cook; Ren had proven that Hux was incapable of cooking.

"What present did you bring me?" Erie asked.

"You're not supposed to ask about presents," Cay whispered.

"I left it in the shuttle. I'll go get it," he said, and stood up.

"I'll go with you!" Erie shouted, hopping up.

One of the boys opened his mouth, presumably to tell her to shut up again, and Cay pointed her finger at him. He shut his mouth.

"No, you stay here. It'll be a surprise that way," Hux said. He couldn't have her see that he'd brought Ren with him. He eased out of the living room and walked to the front door. Erie trailed slowly behind him, but didn't follow him out.

When Hux returned to the command shuttle, Ren was seated in the pilot's seat with his booted feet propped up on the co-pilot's seat, and he was reading something on a datapad. He looked up. "How did it go? Are you done already?"

"I left her presents in here," Hux said. He wasn't ready to report on how it had gone. "What are you reading?"

"A novel," Ren said with a slow smile. "When I started traveling more with less interesting conversation companions, I picked up reading again. This one is funny."

"I'll let you get back to your reading," Hux said. He picked up the bag and left the shuttle before any of the children could follow him into it.

Erie was waiting for him in the doorway of the house. Her face was bright and her eyes were wide as she bounced up and down on her toes. "What did you bring me?" she called to him as he neared the house.

Standing in front of her, he pulled out the two pads of plain paper, the box of markers, and the box of crayons. He hoped that these would be special, not something she already had.

She caressed the pad of paper. "It's so pretty. It's white. There's no lines on it. And the crayons aren't broken. Thanks, Armie!" She hugged him around the paper and boxes. "Come color with me in the playhouse."

Hux was reluctant to return to the playhouse because of the memories it stirred, but he'd have to get over those feelings. He would dismiss the history and record new memories of the playhouse. These memories would be good. "Okay," he said. He slung the bag over his shoulder and followed her into the playhouse. The books he would reveal later. They would be an even better surprise.

Inside the playhouse, she got down on her knees with a pad of paper in front of her, and handed the other pad to him. He was impressed with her generosity, considering how excited she'd been about the paper. He imagined that her previous coloring options had not been nearly as nice. He sat down cross-legged across from her and laid the pad of paper on his lap.

She opened the box of crayons. "Ooh, look at all the colors. My favorite color is green. What's your favorite color?"

Hux had no idea. Color was irrelevant unless it was used to distinguish one rank from another. "Uh...gray?"

"Gray is boring," she said. "What's your second favorite?"

"Red," he guessed.

"My second favorite is orange. It's tied with pink. And purple. And blue."

"Are there any colors you don't like?" he asked.

"Gray."

He laughed.

"I'm going to draw you," she said. She selected a red-orange crayon. "What are you going to draw?"

"I...I'm going to draw...my shuttle," he said.

"That's boring. Draw something else."

"Like what?" he asked.

"Draw your favorite animal."

Hux didn't have a favorite animal. That was about as relevant to his life as a favorite color. But then he remembered the children's books he'd read to his daughter so many years ago. "I'll draw a happabore," he said.

"What's _that_?"

He smiled. "I'll show you." He picked up a gray crayon and started to draw.

"Where do you live?" she asked. She picked up a peach-colored crayon and started drawing the circle of his face. He could tell that upside down. He was looking forward to his portrait by a six-year-old. It wouldn't be flattering or accurate; he knew that much.

"I live on a big spaceship with two million other people," he said. The personnel aboard the _Supremacy_ were stormtroopers and officers and sub-adults, who were still in training, too young for active combat deployment.

"How many is two million?" she asked.

"It's like a really, really big city."

"And you tell them what to do?" she asked.

"That's my job."

With the bright red-orange crayon, she started drawing a heavy fringe of straight lines above his head.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Your _hair_ ," she said, as if it were the silliest question she'd ever heard.

"Oh, right."

"Are you important?" she asked.

"Yes." He didn't want to tell her this, but he didn't want to lie to her either. He wanted her to be able to trust him, and lying about something so basic wasn't a way to build trust. He'd just keep things simple and understandable for someone her age.

"Are there lots of families on your spaceship?" she asked.

"No, no families."

Her eyes widened. They were bright green with tiny flecks of amber. "Then who?"

"Soldiers and people training to be soldiers," he offered. It was inaccurate terminology, but easier than explaining the military hierarchy and what each position entailed.

"Kids?" she asked.

"Some of them."

"Where are their parents?" she asked.

"They don't have parents," he said. They were stolen from their parents and raised in the First Order to believe that the galaxy was chaotic and needed a strong order to keep it under control. He had succumbed to that chaos; he realized that now. He was Supreme Leader, and somehow he'd fallen away from the most basic tenet of the First Order.

"That's sad. I don't have parents either. They sent me away four years ago and said they'd never, ever see me again. So I don't have parents. None of my brothers and sisters do," she said. She looked up at him and squinted at his face. "What color are your eyes?"

He reached for the box of crayons, studied them for a moment, and then handed her a crayon that was somewhere between blue and green, closer to blue. "This color," he said.

She used the crayon to give him eyes in the middle of his peach-colored face. "What do those ribbons on your pants do?" she asked.

He looked down and ran his finger down the strap of one suspender. "They're suspenders. They hold up my trousers."

"Trousers?"

"Pants."

She drew his shirt as a box with a thick black outline, didn't bother with arms, and picked up a gray crayon for his trousers. The crayons she'd already used lay in a messy pile near the box. He was tempted to pick them up and put them back in their proper places, but they were her crayons, not his. He selected a pink crayon for the happabore's snout and started crafting its front end. His drawing was nothing like the illustration in the book; he didn't let this frustrate him.

"Do you have a wife?" she asked.

"No!" he said too loudly. He softened his tone. "I don't have a wife."

"A husband?"

"I don't have one of those either," he said. He thought of Ren. He had no husband, but he had a boyfriend. It was odd to think of Ren as his boyfriend. He could call Ren his lover, but a lover required love, and...Hux had never considered loving Ren before. He could call Ren his partner, but partner implied a longer-term commitment.

She colored three quarters of the way down one leg with the gray crayon, and then plucked a purple crayon from the box and continued to the bottom of the leg in purple.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing at the partially purple leg.

"Your pants," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing. She started the other leg at the bottom and colored up in purple.

He looked down at his trousers. They were charcoal gray to him, but he already had hair not connected to his head, and no arms to speak of, so he supposed partially purple trousers weren't out of the question.

With some care, he finished his drawing of the happabore. It looked nothing like a happabore, but Erie's drawing looked nothing like him, so it didn't matter. He watched her finish with the purple trousers and draw what must be hands with three digits in the vicinity of his knees. "What are those?" he asked as she was adding the thumbs.

"Your hands," she said, again with the tone.

"Where are my arms?" he asked.

"They're right there." She pointed at the white space above his hands.

"I don't see them."

"Of course you don't!" She frowned. "You're wearing a white shirt!"

"Oh." That actually made sense. "You're right. Silly me."

She set down the crayon and turned the paper upside down so he could see it. "Do you like it?" she asked.

He looked at the messy drawing and smiled. "Yes, I like it a lot."

"Is that a happabore?" she asked.

He turned the paper upside down so she could look at it. "That's a happabore."

"It's ugly," she said. He wasn't sure if she meant the happabore or his drawing. Both of them were ugly.

"I brought you some books," he said. "Do you want me to read to you?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yeah! What books did you bring?"

He uncrossed his legs to stretch them as he reached for his bag. He opened it and took out the three children's books he had brought with him. As recommended by Phasma, two were about human girls and one was about an anthropomorphic cat of some sort.

"I want the cat book," she said and slithered over to sit beside him as he crossed his legs again and opened the book. As he was about to start reading, she asked, "Is your tummy okay?"

"Hm? Yes, it's fine," he said. How was his stomach relevant to the book?

She crawled onto his lap and settled herself in with her back against his belly and her legs sticking straight out. He was overcome with emotion, but this time they were good emotions. He was comfortable with her there; it felt like she belonged. Was it inappropriate? Maybe, probably, but she didn't have a father to do this with her, and he wasn't going to hurt her. He understood why she had asked about his stomach, considering what had happened last time she'd tried to sit on his lap, but it didn't matter. None of the past mattered. He drew in a deep breath to steady himself and started reading.

By the time they got to the end of all three books, Hux could see from the angle of the sunlight that evening was approaching. Although he never wanted to move from his comfortable position with Erie cuddled on his lap, he knew that he had to return to the _Supremacy_ and his real life.

"Erie!" Cay called, jolting him out of his reverie. She peeked in through the doors of the playhouse. "You're late for dinner and bath time."

Erie got up and so did Hux. "I have to go home," he said. "But I'll come back to see you soon. I promise."

She pouted. "You'll come back sooner this time, won't you?"

"Much sooner. Just a few days."

"Okay...." She clung to his hand. "Will you bring me more books next time?"

"I will," he agreed. He knelt down in front of her. "May I take your drawing of me to show my friends?"

She smiled. "Uh-huh. Tell me if they like it."

He nodded. "Go have your dinner and your bath."

She let Cay lead her away. Behind her, he put the crayons back into the box, and then tore off the top sheet of paper with her portrait of him on it. He would treasure that drawing, but the only other person to see it would be Ren. He returned the books to the bag.

As he was tidying up, it occurred to him how easy this interaction had been without the presence of an adult antagonizing him. Had he destroyed his relationship with his daughter by neglecting her in favor of defending himself from her mother? The answer could have been yes. It was a sobering realization, but that was done. There was nothing he could do about it.

He set off toward the command shuttle, where Ren awaited him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Answer: You throw it upward.


	12. Twelve: Ren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely subtitling this story: Hux and Ren make a series of unwise decisions.

Kylo Ren was bored. When he and his group of stormtroopers were traveling, he was content to occupy hours in hyperspace with a novel, but somehow knowing that the command shuttle was on the ground and he wasn't going anywhere made him impatient. He hadn't expected Hux to spend this long with the girl; he had hoped that Hux's initial return would be the final one. Hux didn't need his support here.

When he heard footsteps ascending the loading ramp, Ren sat up straight. Finally! Hux entered the cockpit with a bittersweet expression on his face. He had the bag slung over one shoulder and a single sheet of white paper in his hand. "How did it go?" Ren asked.

"Beautifully," Hux said. He passed the sheet of paper to Ren. "Erie's portrait of me."

Ren looked at the crayon scribbles that vaguely resembled a person. He wasn't impressed. But Hux looked like a proud father, so Ren said, "It's...creative."

Hux sat down in the co-pilot's seat, where Ren's feet had been moments before. "Thank you for coming with me. I know you'd rather be somewhere else. In the future, I'll be capable of going on my own."

Ren was grateful. "You're coming back?" he asked.

"In a few days." Hux smiled. Clearly he was looking forward to it.

"I was thinking," Ren said. "Did the kids tell you anything about why they're out here away from everyone else?"

"Erie told me her parents abandoned her here four years ago," Hux said.

"Their parents were afraid of the Force, so they sent them out here. That's all I know." Ren set down his datapad and folded his hands together. "But I'm curious. Let's visit the nearest town and see if we can find out anything about their exile. We can also try some local food." He saw Hux's eyebrow twitch at the last bit. "I'm sure there will be something edible. We can treat it like a date, a real one."

At that Hux smiled. "Where is the nearest town?" he asked.

"I don't have a map, but we can take the command shuttle up to orbit and use the sensors to look for a populated area," Ren said. He was already retracting the loading ramp and laying his hands on the controls as he spoke. He caught Hux looking fondly at the crayon drawing and barely resisted rolling his eyes. He poked Hux's arm. "Put that away. We're working."

Hux stowed the paper inside the bag and laid the bag carefully on the floor. "I'm paying attention," he said. He stayed attentive, looking at the trees as the shuttle rose, and then at the sky as the shuttle continued to ascend.

Ren took the shuttle into orbit and used the sensors to scan for a populated area. What he could see of the planet was mostly rural: fields and forests with snaking rivers and small lakes. Some of the fields were used for agriculture, but some were just grass. When he finally found a populated area, it was far away from the woods where the children lived. It was too long a distance for any of them to travel. "A town," he said, pointing down in its general direction; they were too high up to see anything.

Hux peered out through the transparisteel. "How big a town is it?" he asked.

"We'll see when we get down there," Ren said, and he started taking the shuttle down.

Both of them looked down as Ren brought the shuttle down for a landing in a cleared area. The town was small, but not tiny. He would guess a population of several thousand in an area where one could easily walk from one side to the other. As the shuttle neared the surface, Ren saw an open market close to one side of the town with what he presumed were shops surrounding it. People were walking around. Even closer to the surface, he saw arms raised and he knew they were pointing at the shuttle. They probably didn't see many of those.

At last he landed the shuttle on the outskirts of town, but before he debarked with Hux, he asked, "Do you think I should leave my lightsaber here? If they don't like the Force, that might set them off."

"Good idea," Hux said. His eyes flicked over to where his blaster lay with his uniform jacket. Ren expected him to put on both, but Hux sighed and turned away.

They debarked together. Ren shut the loading ramp behind them and took Hux's hand in his. Hux squeezed Ren's hand, and then withdrew his, and Ren understood: not here, not yet, not until they got a sense of people's attitudes.

People appeared from the crooked streets to stand at the edge of town and stare at them. They must not get a lot of visitors, which might explain why they didn't look friendly. Ren already regretted not having his lightsaber, but the people didn't appear violent, just suspicious. If anything happened, he and Hux could run and be back at the shuttle before anyone could harm them.

Where Ren's first instinct was avoidance, Hux took the opposite tack. He extended his hand to a well-dressed man and said, "Good evening, sir. My bodyguard and I were in the vicinity and thought we'd visit for some conversation and a meal."

Ren frowned at being called a bodyguard, but he was sure that Hux had a reason for referring to him as that. He approached Hux and stood a step behind him, where he thought a bodyguard might.

The well-dressed man smiled and introduced himself and said, "If you're looking for conversation and a good meal, I know the bar for you."

"Much appreciated, sir," Hux said. "But I'd like to have a look around your market first.

"Of course, of course. I'll show you the market," the man said. And he turned to lead them onto the crooked streets and toward the market. Hux followed and Ren came a step behind.

When they had been shown the bar where they must eat later, Hux and Ren were set free to wander the market. Many of the stalls were closed at this time of evening, but some were still open, selling everything from handmade attire to intoxicating beverages to fresh-baked bread. The bread made Ren's mouth water.

Hux was admiring a beautiful woven jacket when he asked the seller, "This is a strange question, but do you have any Force-sensitive people here?"

"Why?" she demanded. It was at that moment that Ren knew they would have to be very careful here. Even from that single word, he knew not bringing his lightsaber had been the right decision, though he itched for its security at the moment.

"One can never be too careful," Hux replied.

"No, we execute them as children," she said.

"Execute?" Hux echoed. Ren felt his stomach tighten.

"Or send them away. It depends on how dangerous they are," she said. In a lower voice, she continued, "The Force has never done anything good for us. They used it to kill, the dark Force warriors who came here, and we vowed we'd never let another Force user into our town." She scowled at Ren. "Who's this?"

"My bodyguard," Hux said.

Ren had never wanted his lightsaber more, but he told himself that they'd be fine as long as no one knew he could use the Force. Or had been able to; whether he could now was still in question. His whole body screamed that he was in danger, but Hux didn't look concerned, so Ren would follow his lead.

"Are you someone important?" she asked Hux. She looked him up and down. "You don't look important."

Hux shrugged. "I'm somewhere up in the ranks. This is a beautiful jacket. It feels like—" he rubbed the fabric between his forefinger and thumb "—wool, but it's so smooth."

"I've never known a man who could tell fabric just by feeling it with his fingers."

Ren sensed an insult, but Hux didn't react to it. "Now you have."

"Yes, it's wool," she said, and went into a long description of how she made it so smooth. Most people mistook it for cotton; a few guessed something synthetic; nobody suspected wool.

"I have my eye on this jacket," Hux said when she had finished. "Let me think about it over dinner and I'll come back afterward. I'm eating in that bar over there." He pointed in the direction of the bar that had been recommended to them.

"Enjoy your dinner," she said.

As they crossed the market toward the bar, Hux very briefly brushed his fingers across Ren's palm, and Ren resisted the urge to grab them. He tried to trust Hux, who didn't look in the slightest bit concerned, but he was just waiting for someone to recognize him. He wasn't well known except in the mask he used to wear, but he had the feeling that someone would find out somehow and reveal him, and then where would he be without his lightsaber? No. He could handle whatever life threw at him, lightsaber or not.

The bar was slightly too warm inside and crowded with people. Most of them were gathered at or around the bar itself, but only a few tables were unoccupied. Ren laid his hand on the small of Hux's back to guide him to a table in the far corner, but then yanked his hand away when he realized they were in public. This had been so much easier on the _Supremacy_ , where Hux's rank would stop everyone—save Mitaka, apparently—from commenting on their behavior. Here that behavior might be normal or it might attract unwanted attention; he wouldn't know unless he tried it, and he didn't want to take that risk.

He sat down with his back to the wall and Hux sat across from him. For a moment, Ren observed the motion of the bar. Most of the patrons were drinking, but neither Ren nor Hux partook in such beverages. There were no waiters, so patrons needed to go to the bar to order. A large menu hung behind the bar. Ren didn't recognize any of the foods on it.

Hux looked around as well. "What do you want to eat?" he asked. He laid one hand on top of Ren's, and then swiftly withdrew it.

Ren scanned the menu again, but nothing looked familiar. "You know me. I'll eat anything. What do you want?"

Hux shifted slightly. He was uncomfortable now, too. Maybe he would ask to leave before someone recognized Ren and executed him. "I'll need to ask some questions," he said.

Ren nodded. "Order me something while you're up there. Anything that sounds good or...just anything, really."

Hux got up and strode to the bar. Ren watched, though his eyes kept flicking from one side of the room to the other, alert for danger. If he listened closely, he could hear Hux's voice intermingled with all the others, but he couldn't make out words. Hux was talking to a bartender, who seemed to be explaining something to him. The bartender didn't seem offended by what must be Hux's questions about the menu, nor did Hux seem to be attracting attention from anyone with his questions. Ren took a deep breath and told himself to relax. They would be fine, both of them.

He studied a peculiar painting of animals stacked up with one's feet on another's back and an arrangement of fruit on the back of the top animal. It was the only piece of artwork in the otherwise dingy bar, but he couldn't imagine why the owner had been drawn to that one.

A raised voice caught his attention and his gaze snapped back to Hux. As he saw the stocky man standing too close to Hux, he was reminded of the last time they'd been in a bar together. He was afraid this was about to come to the same conclusion, and he was on the edge of his seat, just in case Hux needed him.

"You look familiar," the man said loudly, moving in a little closer. "You and your...friend over there."

"That's my bodyguard. I don't know why we would look familiar to you." Hux looked unruffled. Ren felt a surge of confidence in him. Hux knew what he was doing.

The man moved still closer. "Oh, I'll bet he's your _body_ guard. Does he guard it naked?"

Hux turned back to the bartender and said something that Ren couldn't hear. For a moment, Ren thought he had defused the situation by ignoring the inciting comment, as the man took a step back, and Ren tried to slow his heart rate. Then one of the other men whispered something into the stocky man's ear and a strange expression crossed his face.

"I know who you are!" the man crowed, and Ren thought he was going to grab Hux, but his hands remained at his sides.

Hux started and turned back to him. But he didn't get a chance to say anything.

"You're that guy from the First Order, the one that destroyed the Hosnian System." This declaration was loud enough that the rest of the patrons of the bar fell silent. They closed in around Hux, in a circle several people deep. All of them spoke at once in such a cacophony that Ren couldn't understand anything.

Ren was out of his chair before he had time to think. He tried to shove his way through the ranks to get to Hux and get him out of here, but the circle tightened and several on the outside pushed him away. Hux was pinned with his back to the bar, but his expression was one of defiance instead of fear. "Back off," he said sharply.

"General Hux!" someone shouted, and the attack began.

Hux put his arms up to fend off the rain of blows. He didn't try to fight back, though Ren thought he knew how, but multiple opponents made everything harder. Wishing for his lightsaber or Hux's blaster or even a stick, Ren elbowed his way into the crowd until he finally got close enough to wrap his hand around Hux's wrist.

"It's Kylo Ren!" someone shouted, and the attack turned vicious. There was a flash of silver as a man grabbed a knife from the bar. Ren thrust Hux behind him, between his body and the bar, to keep him safe. He didn't know what else to do. He successfully fended off their attacks with fists and feet, until someone sneaked up behind him and grabbed his hair.

Moving on instinct, Ren grabbed the wrist of the hand in his hair and twisted until he heard it snap. The owner of the wrist screamed and released his hair. Ren clamped his hand around Hux's wrist and barreled through the crowd, knocking people to the side with his body, and Hux kept up with him. Once they were free from the bar, Hux sprinted toward the shuttle and Ren followed several steps behind him. Kriff, he was fast.

Together they ran up the loading ramp and Ren retracted it and he was piloting the command shuttle off the ground before the ramp was fully closed. Panting, he sank down into the pilot's seat, his hands moving across the controls without any conscious thought on his part.

After the command shuttle was safely away from the planet, Ren slumped back in the pilot's seat. He was tired. Over in the co-pilot's seat, Hux had his eyes half-closed. Ren charted a course through hyperspace and engaged the hyperdrive. "You have a bruise," he said, brushing his thumb across the bruise on Hux's cheek.

"You do, too," Hux murmured. He looked very sleepy.

Ren had something to tell Hux that he knew he wouldn't like. "Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?" he asked. Then he sprang it on him. "I'm leaving in the morning, but...I'd like you to sleep with me anyway. I'll try not to disturb you when I get up."

Hux's expression changed completely when Ren announced his departure. But instead of expressing his feelings of abandonment—after his confession about feeling alone, Ren knew that was how he felt—by turning down Ren's offer, he said softly, "Okay." He didn't say anything for the rest of the journey back to the _Supremacy_.

In his quarters, Ren took his turn in the refresher first. He almost expected Hux to be gone when he came out, but Hux was sitting on the bed. Ren undressed while he waited for Hux and left his clothes on the floor, as usual, and then put on his pajamas. Hux emerged in his regulation First Order briefs and white undershirt with his folded clothes under his arm. He laid them carefully on the floor and climbed into bed with Ren.

Underneath the sheet and the light blanket, Hux rolled over to face Ren and nestled against his chest. He nuzzled his face against Ren's neck and sighed. Warm and comfortable and sleepy, Ren draped his arm over Hux's side and shut his eyes.


	13. Thirteen: Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been busy because I went back to college to get my bachelor's degree, but I finished my classes and I have through the first week of January to work on writing projects. My goal is to finish proofreading and posting this story, because I feel bad abandoning it when it's already _written_. I'm going to post the chapters as I finish them.
> 
> I realized something funny when I re-read this chapter. People make fun of Hux for asking about food ingredients, and I didn't really understand his experience until I learned I was lactose intolerant and had to start asking, "Does this have dairy in it?" whenever I went out to eat. :P
> 
> Anyway, on to the story. Enjoy! Comments are delightful, as always. <3

Armitage Hux awakened momentarily when Ren got out of bed early in the morning, but fell back asleep almost immediately. He woke later, at his usual time, to an empty bed and a vague sense that he'd had an unsettling dream. He usually didn't dream when he was in Ren's bed, but perhaps its emptiness had allowed his mind to work against him again. He couldn't recall what the dream was, or confirm that he'd had one, so it was better than usual.

More careful this time, he showered in Ren's refresher, combed his hair with Ren's comb, and dressed fully with everything tucked in or fastened or buttoned up properly. He didn't think there was anyone to catch him doing, as Phasma called it, the walk of shame, but he wasn't going to risk it again. He walked back to his quarters without seeing anyone and started getting dressed a second time, this time in clean clothes.

As he ironed his uniform jacket, trousers, and white button-down shirt, his mind drifted to the events of the night before. He'd thought he could handle anything that planet could throw at him—otherwise he would never have left his blaster—but he'd been proven wrong.

Just when he thought he'd gotten yesterday off his mind, the biggest event returned to his mind and he felt suddenly like he'd been punched in the stomach. Erie. He located the bag and pulled out the books and the crayon drawing. He smiled. The irregularities of the drawing made it all the more endearing. He remembered the tone of voice she'd used when he'd asked about something so simple and logical to her, but not so much to him.

He gazed at the drawing for several minutes as the memories washed through him, soothed him like a warm shower. When she'd sat on his lap as he read to her, it had been...perfect, like she belonged there. The emotion he felt was not something he could label, though he'd gotten better at that over the past five or so weeks. He realized he had stopped counting days.

The other officers had tolerated the presence of his previous guests, though he knew there had been gossip about how poorly their visit was going. How would they react if they knew he was taking time off to visit another little girl? No one would understand. Even Ren didn't understand.

Two secrets stayed with him as he went about his day: one, he cared about a little girl; two, he had succumbed to the chaos and he didn't know how—or if he wanted—to get out.

After a morning of mostly keeping to himself, he saw Mitaka for the first time in the officers' lounge during a lunch break that he rarely took. Mitaka spotted him and started backing out of the room. Hux wouldn't let him get away with that. "Lieutenant!" he shouted across the room.

All the lieutenants in the room froze and stared at him.

"Mitaka, I need to see you in my office in one hour," he said. It was better than summoning him immediately because it gave Mitaka time to worry about what was going to happen. And it gave Hux time to get something to eat.

"Yes, sir!" Mitaka said and ducked out of the lounge.

Hux had a leisurely lunch and hoped that Mitaka was miserable. He left after about half an hour and returned to his office to work on paperwork that he'd missed on his day away. Although he'd yet to talk to Phasma, he could tell that she'd done well in holding things together and getting things done during his absence. It was nice to know he could count on her. He'd have to hint at this when he spoke with her later.

Right on time, Mitaka knocked on the door and Hux called, "Come in."

Mitaka came to stand in front of Hux's desk. "Sir?"

"I hear that you have something to tell me," Hux said.

"Uh, uh, yes, sir." Mitaka tucked his hands behind his back in parade rest. "Ren, uh, Mr. Ren ran into me after I had been with my...lover. He insisted that I confess to you as my punishment."

Hux had to put effort into not smirking at the words _Mr. Ren_. He debated what punishment to inflict on Mitaka to ensure that he would not see his lover during duty hours again. "Who is this lover?" he asked. He didn't know what Mitaka's sexual orientation was and he was curious.

"She's an engineer who works on the lowest level," Mitaka said. "I swear, sir, I'll never see her during duty hours again."

Hux wasn't in the mood to be cruel, but he couldn't just let this go. "I will take pleasure in choosing the most painful punishment if you do," he said. "Dismissed."

Mitaka left so quickly it was almost as if he vanished.

Hux kept to himself for the rest of the day. His secrets kept accosting him just when he thought he'd gotten away from them. He was able to focus well enough to get work done, however, so he tolerated the occasional interruptions.

He worked through dinner. Since he didn't have time to invite Phasma to eat with him, he stayed at his desk until it was late enough to find her in the gym. He always had enough to do to keep him in his office until late at night. But at one point, as the evening turned into night, he caught himself wondering where in his office he could keep Erie's crayon portrait. "I'm going crazy," he said, and returned to his work.

He unlocked the door to the gym and stepped inside. "I was waiting for you," Phasma called across the room. She was dressed in her tracksuit and seated on the bench of the bench press. After the circuit she'd put him through, he remembered the names of some of the machines and how they worked. He hadn't done the bench press. She had told him he wasn't ready.

"Here I am," he said. He crossed the gym to stand in the middle of the cluster of machines.

"You have a bruise." She tapped her cheek.

"Bar fight," Hux offered. He looked at her and noticed a bruise just above her collarbone. "You have one, too."

"I'm afraid my story is nowhere near as intriguing as a bar fight," she said smoothly. "Tell."

"We were in a community that disliked both the Force and, apparently, the First Order. I was ordering food at the bar when they realized who I was. They attacked. We defended ourselves." The last part wasn't true, but it sounded better.

"We?" she asked.

"Ren and I."

"That's an unusual location for a date."

"Tell me about it," he mumbled.

"I'm guessing you were up at the bar asking questions about the food," she said.

Why did everyone insist on gibing him about his eating habits? He was going to ask as much when he looked at the bruise on her collarbone again. Could it be...? No. "How did you get your bruise, Phasma?"

She lay back and started with the bench press. "You don't want to know."

"You know that just makes me more curious," he chided.

There was a long silence, and then Phasma said, "She _bit_ me."

Hux's suspicion had been confirmed, but he couldn't believe it. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but was unable to form words.

"I didn't want to go to medbay and ask for a bacta patch because I didn't want questions, and you're the only person who sees me without my armor, and you're not the most observant man, Hux." The muscles in her arms flexed as she lifted the heavy weights. She was probably lifting his weight or more.

"Who's she?" he asked.

She hung up the weight and sat up again. "I have a girlfriend, Hux, and I'm not going to tell you who she is."

"Tell her I said to be more careful with her teeth." He was trying not to smile.

"Are you here to work out or interrogate me?" she asked. After this, he knew she would be rough on him tonight. He could take it.

"I'm going to get you started on the bench press," she announced. She got up and went over to the weights. "I'll have to adjust this for your abilities. You'd probably break your ribs if you tried it like this."

"I'd like to be alive and unharmed after this," he said.

"I can promise you alive. Unharmed...we'll see." She pointed at his chest. "Shirts off."

Hux took off his white button-down shirt and his undershirt and left his suspenders dangling from his waistband. He was much less self-conscious about his upper body than he'd been at the beginning, and if he looked closely, he could almost imagine that he saw some muscle definition. Suddenly he was looking forward to his workout.

Afterward, he lay on his back on the bench with his arms drooping toward the floor. "I swear your goal is to kill me," he moaned.

"Go get yourself cleaned up and you'll be fine in a couple of days."

He pried himself off the bench and walked out of the gym. His upper body was sore, but his lower body was okay. He was exhausted. He had to go back for his shirts because he'd forgotten them, but then he made it to his quarters. He turned on the shower and stepped under the spray.

Damp, and with a towel wrapped around his waist, he stood in his bedroom and looked at his bed. He associated the bed with nightmares and hours of lying awake. He didn't want to do that tonight; he never wanted to do it again. Before he realized what he was doing, he pulled on his clothes and left his quarters.

Ren's quarters were dark and empty, just the way he'd left them this morning, but they looked more welcoming to Hux than his own had. He undressed down to his underwear and crawled into Ren's bed. With the blanket wrapped around him, he imagined that Ren was there, holding him and keeping him safe.

For the next two nights, Hux slept alone in Ren's bed. Although it didn't completely stop the nightmares, they were mild and instead of being awakened by each one, he woke in the morning with the general awareness that he'd had a nightmare, but little memory of what it had been. When it couldn't scare him awake, the tornado simply faded.

His secrets gnawed at him during the day, but he managed to force himself to concentrate most of the time. On the morning of the third day, he knew it was time, and he went to ask another favor of Phasma. He knew she'd be honored that he trusted her and eager to take as much power as she could, even if it was temporary.

He had a sudden vision of making it permanent and settling down somewhere nice with Ren as his husband and Erie as their daughter.

He opened his eyes and found himself whispering, "No, no, no, no." He was the Supreme Leader of the First Order. That wasn't something he'd ever give up.

When he found Phasma in her office, she was dressed once more in her chrome armor and working at something on a datapad. He remembered the bruise on her collarbone and forced himself not to smile. "No training?" he asked.

She looked up, but that was the most he could tell with the chrome helmet on. "It's academic time. Don't you know your own trainees' schedules?"

"Not anymore," Hux said, pretending he didn't notice the jab. It had been a long time since he'd known the training schedules of the young people being raised in the First Order. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Again? Already?" she asked.

"Yes, I have matters to attend to away from the _Supremacy_ ," he said. It sounded like bullshit to him. Of course it did; that was what it was.

"Who is this girl child you're visiting?" she asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

She stood up. "Don't give me that. I won't grant your favor if you don't tell me what's going on."

Hux took a moment to debate what he could tell her without sharing any details. "She's six. I met her on a mission with Ren." Phasma didn't know the details of that mission; she didn't know he had gone on it in order to kill the children, and Ren and the Knights of Ren with them. He was safe telling her that much. "I brought a datapad with what you'll need to substitute for me."

"Have you considered a full-time substitute?" she asked.

He smiled, baring his teeth. "No."

She reached out her arm. "Hand it over." And when Hux had given her the datapad, she sat down and looked it over. "Let me know if you change your mind."

He arched one eyebrow and turned toward the door.

"You're looking better, Hux," she called after him.

He turned abruptly to face her.

"Like you're getting some sleep," she said.

He wished he could see her face. Was she being serious about telling him that? Or was she teasing him because she knew where he'd been sleeping recently? "I have been sleeping better," he said, and he left before she could say anything else.

His last stop before the hangar was the great library. This time he knew where to look for children's books and he had a better idea of what Erie liked. Her favorite had been the cat book, so he chose several books with anthropomorphic animals as characters. What would he do if someone caught him here looking at children's books? Not ready to be caught, he looked around, and then left the library.

The Supreme Leader had the privilege of a specially designed shuttle that was unique to him. It was similar to Ren's Upsilon-class command shuttle, but it was smaller, and the interior was nicer. While Hux usually demanded a pilot to transport him, he wasn't willing to tell anyone where he was going, much less have anyone wait for him. He had trusted Ren, of course, but there was no one else he trusted with that information. He was capable of piloting the shuttle—he had made sure of that—though he wasn't comfortable the way Ren seemed to be with his command shuttle. Or with any craft; he was under the impression that Ren could fly anything if he put his mind to it.

He secured clearance for departure and piloted the shuttle out of the hangar. His least favorite part about flying was charting the course through hyperspace before he engaged the hyperdrive, but he pushed himself through it and made the jump safely. He didn't trust the shuttle to take care of itself, so he stayed in the pilot's seat to monitor for the whole journey.

Landing was his second least favorite part about flying. As he brought the shuttle down through the atmosphere, he realized that he'd never landed it on a planet before. Clutching the edge of the instrumentation panel with one hand, he carefully made sure he didn't land on top of a tree. When he finally landed and looked out the viewport, he hadn't put it down where he thought he had, but he hadn't destroyed anything. He blew out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding and shook his arms to stop the shaking. He had a new least favorite part.

He removed his uniform jacket and left it with his blaster inside the shuttle. This time he would be safe without his blaster, but he was still reluctant to leave it.

His unsettled feeling faded as he crossed the path through the forest and approached the house. He expected Erie to meet him at the door, but the oldest boy, JJ, answered instead. He gave Hux a funny look and said, "Good, you're here to take her off our hands for a while." And he opened the door wide and invited Hux inside.

Hux didn't ask. As soon as he entered the house, he heard Erie from the kitchen. "I'm hungry," she wailed.

"You told me that." It was Cay. "What do you want to eat?"

"I don't want anything to eat!" Erie wailed.

"Then you're going to be hungry," Cay said with an edge to her voice.

Hux expected the desire to turn back and run away before she knew he was there, but he didn't feel it. It stunned him briefly that his instinct was instead to help, but he recovered. He walked into the kitchen and found Cay pulling on her hair in frustration and Erie pouting in the corner. "I'm hungry," he announced. "What do you have to eat?"

"Sandwiches," Cay said.

"Make one for me and one for Erie. If she doesn't want hers, I'll eat it."

"Make it yourself," Cay snapped and stomped out of the kitchen.

As Hux rummaged through the cupboards in search of bread and something to put on it, Erie sulked in the corner and barely looked at him. "What do you like on your sandwiches?" he asked.

"Peanut butter and jelly. Cheese...grilled cheese. Meat. I don't know! I don't know!" she shouted. She dropped down onto the floor, wrapped her arms around her legs, and refused to look at him.

He located both bread and jelly, but he had no idea where the peanut butter might be. "Where's the peanut butter?" he asked.

"I don't _like_ peanut butter!"

"Neither do I," he said. He gave up and made two jelly sandwiches. She wouldn't stay full on that, but it might interest her in something else. He poured a glass of milk for her and was about to fill a glass with water for himself, but she stopped him.

"You have to drink milk if I do." She scowled, but she did look at him.

Hux did not like milk and did not like compromising. He debated giving her water, too, but decided he'd try the milk. If he didn't, anyone who heard about this would mock him for being a picky eater. He poured a second, smaller glass of milk for himself. "We're going to the playhouse," he announced, not giving her a choice in the matter. "I'll carry the glasses. You carry the plates."

She looked at him, but didn't move.

He would not get annoyed with her. It wouldn't help. "I'll make three trips. The glasses, the plates, and then you." And he picked up the glasses and walked out of the kitchen. As he pushed open the front door, he heard her footsteps following him. He held the door open for her and followed her out into the playhouse. He still went back a second time for the plates.

He sat down on the floor and patted the spot next to him to invite her to sit. She sat down opposite him and sulked. He pretended not to notice and picked up his jelly sandwich. He sampled it—not bad—and looked down at the milk. He wanted something to drink. He tried to think of something to say that might draw her out, but nothing came to mind. He was accustomed to her leading the conversation. "What did you do this morning?" he asked. It was still morning, but something must have happened before he arrived to put her in this mood.

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"This sandwich is very sweet," he said to fill the silence.

"I don't care! I don't care! I don't care!" she shouted. She picked up her milk glass and smashed it against the floor. Milk and shattered glass splashed everywhere. Erie burst into tears.

Hux sat in shocked silence.

"My finger," she whined, holding out her index finger to him. Blood welled up out of a little wound. A shard of glass must have cut her.

He looked from her finger to the shattered glass and spilled milk. He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know how to comfort or soothe. Ren knew, somehow, but Hux had never learned. Whenever his own daughter had cried, he'd handed her back to her mother. And here he was, alone, and responsible for this girl. What did he do?

"Let's go find a bandage for your finger," he said. He stood up and, when she didn't, he scooped her up and set her on her feet. "Where do you keep the bandages in your house?"

"'Fresher upstairs," she mumbled. She followed him reluctantly out of the playhouse and back into the house. At the foot of the stairs, she stopped.

He almost asked if she'd rather walk or be carried, but he realized that offering her a choice would only make things worse. "You stay here. I'll bring the bandage down to you," he said.

She followed him up the stairs.

He seated her on the closed toilet lid and dug around in the cupboards for bandages. When he'd found them, he knelt in front of her and looked at her finger. She started crying again as he inspected the wound. His instinct again was avoidance, but he couldn't avoid this. What would he do next time if he failed this time? More importantly, would there be a next time?

The wound was minor, with no shards of glass stuck in it, and he chose not to use antiseptic—partially because he couldn't find any, partially because he knew the sting would make her cry more. He used a handy washcloth to wipe away the milk and unwrapped the bandage. Then he gently wrapped it around her fingertip. "All done," he said.

She wiped her face. "It still hurts."

"Give it a little while. It'll stop hurting."

"Kiss it better?" she asked.

He stopped himself from shrinking back at the suggestion. Instead, he kissed her bandaged finger. "Better?"

She nodded.

He sat back on his heels. "Let's go back downstairs and I'll clean up the milk so no one steps in it," he said.

That was the wrong thing to say. She started crying again and ran out of the refresher. He heard her bare feet on the hallway floor. Sighing, he got up and threw away the bandage wrapper. Then he followed her down the hall.

The only bedroom with an open door appeared to be empty. He hadn't heard a door open or close, so she must be in there somewhere. He stepped inside, looked around, and then got down on his knees and peered under the bed. She was curled up in the back corner. "Erie, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing!" she said defiantly.

He looked at her sparse bookshelf and selected a book. He sat down on the floor with his back leaning against the bed, and opened the book. The book was obviously old and well read; its reading level was considerably lower than the ones he had brought for her. Which, now that he thought about it, he'd left in the shuttle. Never mind. He turned to the first page and began to read.

By the end of the first book, she was out from under the bed. He used this as an opening to retrieve the books he'd left in his shuttle, and then returned to continue reading. By the end of the second book, she was sitting on his lap again. And she remained there throughout the duration of the much longer third book.

When he finished reading, he leaned back against the bed and sat in silence. She fell asleep on his lap and drooled on his arm, but he didn't mind. Quiet time to be alone with his thoughts was pleasant, as he was always busy back on the _Supremacy_. And it really was warm and comfortable with her on his lap.

Upon awakening, the first thing Erie said was, "I'm hungry."

Hux took a deep breath. "Then let's get you something to eat."

"Okay." She got up. There was a pink line across her cheek where her face had been pressed against his shirt, and her hair was a mess. It was shoulder-length and curly at the bottom, and he wanted to offer to comb it for her, but he didn't quite dare. "I want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

He didn't say a word about her supposed dislike for peanut butter. It wasn't worth it.

After she told him where the peanut butter was—in one of the lower cupboards, which he hadn't noticed—he made her a sandwich. She ate it all without a plate and without speaking. The way she crammed the sandwich into her mouth was both disgusting and endearing.

He was going crazy.

"Can I have some milk?" she asked through her final peanut-buttery mouthful.

"Sure." He poured her another glass of milk and thought about the mess he still had to clean up in the playhouse.

JJ entered the kitchen as she was finishing. "It's school time," he said. His expression was wary, as though he expected Erie to be in her previous condition.

"Can I show Armie what I'm doing?" she asked.

"You can show him, but then you have to study," JJ said.

Erie grabbed Hux's hand and pulled him into the living room, where the rest of the children were studying. Hux had wondered whether they educated themselves without adult supervision and it seemed they did.

"I can print the whole alphabet and the numbers," she told him excitedly. She demonstrated.

As soon as she'd finished, JJ intervened. "School time, Erie. Say goodbye to Mr. Hux."

"Will you come back?" she asked.

"Soon," he said.

He cleaned up the mess in the playhouse and threw away the broken glass before he left. Then he walked to the shuttle. Somehow the prospect of taking the shuttle off the planet and jumping into hyperspace didn't seem as bad.

Not only did he like Erie, but he also cared for her. He was in trouble.


	14. Fourteen: Ren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for today. I promise.
> 
> Comments are wonderful, as usual. <3

Scouting for the First Order gave Kylo Ren a purpose and the freedom to do something useful without being confined to a strict routine aboard the _Supremacy_. Lately it also gave him guilt for being away from Hux so much. He would never have guessed that Hux would miss him so much, nor would he have guessed that he'd care. But Hux was different now; he'd changed after Ren had comforted him when he was sobbing in the shuttle so many weeks ago. And Ren had changed, too. He still needed his freedom, but he could compromise on the length of his absences.

Wondering what Hux was doing at the moment, Ren sat in the pilot's seat of the command shuttle and stared out the viewport at the pulsing glow of hyperspace. His trained group of stormtroopers—he didn't dare name the group out of fear that they would end up like the Knights of Ren—were talking amongst each other in the passenger compartment. He could hear their voices, but he would have had to put in effort to understand what they were saying. He didn't care. He was busy with his own thoughts.

Soon he disengaged the hyperdrive and the shuttle reverted to normal space above an icy planet. There were rumors that, here in the Outer Rim, there were tiny collectives of Resistance supporters who didn't know the Resistance was dead. Ren's job was to confirm their existence and make sure that nothing came of them—whether that took the announcement that the Resistance was dead or the murder of everyone involved.

At first he'd gotten a thrill out of this assignment—he'd assigned it himself—but lately he'd felt anxious instead of powerful. He reminded himself that he had practiced both his physical skills and his Force wielding skills, and ultimately he'd been successful with both. Plus certainly if the need arose, the Force would come to him. He was sure of that.

He landed the shuttle on the crust of ice that covered the planet. This was a slushball planet. Massive sheets of ice covered the continents, but the oceans near the equator were coated only by a thin layer of ice amid areas of open sea. Thus, he was grateful that the encampment was away from that region; he didn't want to land the shuttle on something that would shatter and engulf it in water.

He and his stormtroopers debarked from the shuttle and strode down the loading ramp onto the surface of the planet. His boots sank alarmingly into the snow, which was not as hard as he'd expected it to be beneath a thin crust of ice, but stopped when the snow was just below knee deep. With his stormtroopers behind him, he tramped—there was no striding in snow like this—in the direction of the encampment. He knew where it was, and that there were fewer than fifty individuals living in it, but the rest was an unknown. He would soon find out.

When they had struggled through the snow for five minutes, and Ren was wishing he'd thought to bring snowshoes, they finally arrived at the encampment. It was sunken into a hillside and visible only from the side opposite where he stood. He gestured for his stormtroopers to sneak closer and wait for his signal to attack. Then he walked to the other side.

They were waiting for him. A group of roughly fifteen fur-clad people with blasters raised stood in the entryway to the hidden encampment, and they started firing as soon as they spotted him. He immediately drew his lightsaber to block the blaster bolts and reached out with the Force to protect himself. And nothing happened.

Without the Force, he couldn't effectively block blaster bolts. Without the Force, he couldn't hold them back. He tried to reach the Force, to grab it and wield it the way he used to. He sought out his fear and his anger at his own failures and his pain, but his efforts to dig deep into the darkness inside him found too little; they found Hux.

The first blaster bolt ripped through his shirt and into his skin. He tried to draw power from the pain, but the blaster bolts kept coming, hitting him over and over until he couldn't count them anymore, couldn't think about anything. He couldn't even flee. He almost lost his grip on his lightsaber, but his hand clamped around it instinctively. He was going to die—the lightsaber couldn't save him now—but he would die with his weapon in his hand. He collapsed onto the snowy ground.

He heard cheering. More blaster fire. His body was moving. The snow was so cold. Too cold. His eyes opened to the blue-white sky. His eyes closed.

A sharp pain in his arm awakened him, and he sat up abruptly. Or tried to. His body was overcome with pain and it wouldn't move as he commanded it. His eyes opened to a white ceiling, but he didn't know where he was until he smelled it; somehow he had gotten to medbay. He recognized the sharp pain as an injection. He hadn't given permission for an injection. But before he could try to fight it, whatever had been injected took effect. His eyes fluttered closed and an impossible peace washed over him.

A breathing apparatus was hooked to his face. His clothes were stripped off. He didn't care what they did to him until his toes touched the bacta. The slimy liquid slowly engulfed his body. It was as if he were being swallowed alive. He tried to fight, but he couldn't move, and so he was submerged in the bacta.

Once he was completely covered, the calm returned. He was warm and comfortable and safe; there was no reason to worry. He imagined that this was what Hux felt when he had Ren's arm around him in bed. He imagined Hux.

Hux was laughing. They were out somewhere, perhaps on a date. No, not a date, as he was holding one of Erie's hands and Hux was holding the other. They were standing in the middle of a field and their house was over the hill. Hux's ears were sunburned and his face and arms slightly tanned from the sun. When Ren looked down, Hux carried a picnic basket in his other hand.

Hux was almost asleep on the other side of the bed. It was his bed. Ren pretended to sleep so he could look at Hux without being noticed. Erie was sprawled out between them. She was cute when she was asleep and her personality didn't show. Hux opened his eyes and his mouth to say something, and then....

They were both dressed nicely, Hux in his uniform and Ren in what may have been a suit. He had threatened to wear a white dress if Hux didn't stop harassing him about the clothes he would wear to their wedding. They were in the chapel with a religious leader to one side and the pews to the other. So many people were attending their wedding. Ren was terrified—except he wasn't, because Hux was there, and Ren would never be afraid if he had Hux with him.

The peace eased him into a meditative state. He was awake, but his mind ceased thinking. For a time, he merely existed.

They pulled him out of the bacta tank much too soon. He gasped as the breathing apparatus came off. They laid him on a narrow table or bed, covered him with a sheet, and rolled him down a hallway and into a small room. There they left him without a word.

He awakened slowly. The pain was not gone, but it was no longer overwhelming. With great effort and pain, he levered himself up on his elbows and looked at his naked body, covered only with a white sheet, now smudged with blood. His blaster wounds—many, but to count how many was too much for his brain—were at the stage of being flat scabs in the center and delicate pink skin around the outsides. He must not have been in the bacta tank long. He wished he were back there.

He lay down again and stared at the ceiling.

It seemed like ages passed and he told the medidroid he was hungry. He had no idea how long he'd been in the bacta, but it had been hours since he'd eaten at the time of his last real memory. For the first time he remembered what had happened to send him to medbay. The memories were hazy, but he remembered a little. He had tried to defend himself with the Force, and he had failed. He had failed. The stormtroopers must have saved him and dragged him back to the command shuttle and flown it back to the _Supremacy_. The indignity of that was almost painful, but his failure with the Force was worse. Would he ever be able to access it again?

Footsteps startled him and his stomach growled at the prospect of food. He turned his head to face the doorway and saw Hux enter with a tray of food in his hands. Ren tried to sit up, but dropped back down, breathing hard from the effort. He wasn't ready for that yet. He promised himself that he would be soon.

"Hi," he mumbled.

Hux smiled faintly, though it looked like the smile required great effort. "I'm glad you're okay," he said. "They wouldn't let me visit earlier."

"I don't know about _okay_ ," Ren said. "How long have I been here?"

"Twenty-seven hours," Hux said.

"Not that you were counting," Ren said, trying to make a joke.

"I brought you food," Hux said.

Ren looked longingly at the tray of food. From what he could see, the medidroid may have confused him with someone with difficulty chewing or perhaps a broken jaw. There was a bowl of soup, a smoothie that was an unpleasant brown color, and a glass of water. Ren didn't care; it was food. He tried again to sit up, felt the shock of pain in his muscles, and lay back down.

"Should I get you a straw?" Hux asked.

Defeated, Ren nodded.

Hux set the tray down on a chair, as there was no room on the narrow bed, and left for a moment. He returned with a straw, pulled the chair close to the bed, and sat with the tray on his lap. "What do you want first?" he asked, straw in hand.

"The smoothie," Ren said.

Hux put the straw in the smoothie glass and held it down where he could drink from it. The smoothie was primarily fruit, but Ren detected a faint grittiness that was probably some kind of protein powder; the powder was what turned it brown. Having something in his stomach felt good.

"Have some soup," Hux said. Before Ren could remark that he wasn't going to stick his straw into the soup bowl, Hux dipped a spoon into the soup and held it to Ren's lips.

Ren swallowed. It was good soup, salty and hearty, much better than he'd expected. "I'm not a baby," he complained. But when Hux offered him another spoonful, he took it willingly. Being treated like this made him feel vaguely uncomfortable, but he realized he would do this for Hux if the need arose. A memory stirred in his mind, but he couldn't quite grasp it.

When Hux had finished feeding Ren, he asked, "How are you doing?"

Ren tried to flex his muscles and felt stabbing pain. "I wish I were still in the bacta tank."

"Well, you would have been, but..." Hux trailed off.

"But what?"

"There was a bad crash when the sub-adults were taking their first flying lesson. One died. Four were in critical condition and needed a bacta tank, of which we have four. And you..." Hux trailed off again. Whatever it was, he didn't want to tell Ren.

"And I what?" Ren asked.

"And you aren't Supreme Leader anymore."

Ren frowned. "Oh."

"I am, so if you really need it, I can give the order. But it wouldn't look good for me to be giving favors to my...." Hux didn't finish that sentence either.

Ren's first selfish impulse was to demand that Hux get him back into one of those tanks, but he didn't voice it. Hux set the tray aside and took Ren's hand in his. It should have been comforting, but some thought niggled at him, though he couldn't figure out what it was. He shut his eyes.

As he drifted, near sleep, the memory of the event returned to him with more clarity. He relived the moment when the first blaster bolts came at him and he reached for the Force and it didn't come. He'd looked for anger and fear and pain, but he'd only come up with one thing: Hux. It was his affection for Hux that had snatched the Force away from him.

He jolted awake and yanked his hand away from Hux's hand. "I want to be alone," he said.

"Do you want me to ask the medidroid to bring you some painkillers?" Hux asked. "I don't think they've—"

"Leave me alone!" Ren snapped.

Hux got up and picked up the tray. "I'll visit you again later," he said, and before Ren could tell him not to bother, he was gone.

As Ren lay alone with his pain, he tried to reason with himself. He had known that his good feelings were getting in the way of his contact with the Force, but he'd thought he had it under control. He didn't. Everything was out of control. He knew, in the end, that he might have to choose between Hux and the Force. Which would he choose?

He didn't know. But judging by the pain he was in, and the absence of bacta tanks, he'd have a long time to lie here and think.


	15. Fifteen: Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got around to fixing another chapter. I don't know if anyone is reading this, but if someone is...here you go!

After being avoided during several visits that day and the next, Armitage Hux needed to get away from the _Supremacy_ and from Ren. He didn't know what had happened; one moment he'd been holding Ren's hand, and the next Ren had told Hux to leave him alone. And whenever Hux returned to check on Ren, he pretended to be asleep. Hux would give him a chance to recover from his injuries and whatever had come upon him.

He found Phasma in the gym training some of the younger boys. At the age of nine, these boys were already indoctrinated into the First Order and its dogma. As he watched them, he wondered if it were possible to balance his chaos with the truth that even these young boys knew: that the galaxy needed a firm hand to keep it under control.

When Phasma noticed him watching, she held out an armored hand. "Datapad, Supreme Leader. I'll see you when you get back."

"Am I that predictable?" he asked.

"I'd think you'd buy me dinner as thanks, but I never see you unless you're asking a favor of me."

"Next time I get the chance, dinner," he said, and he left her with the boys.

He made his usual stop at the library—the selection of appropriate books was getting slimmer—and then went to the hangar. He had to walk past Ren's command shuttle in order to get to his, and he thought of Ren, wondered what was going on with him, and then put his thoughts and questions aside. Ren would let him know when he wanted to see him again. Hux would have to wait.

He prepared the shuttle and obtained clearance to depart. Ren regularly neglected to tell anyone that he was leaving, but Hux made a point of following the rules. He left the hangar and, a safe distance from the _Supremacy_ , charted his hyperspace course toward Erie's planet. Then he sat back and waited.

Landing was less difficult this time. He even landed the shuttle closer to where he intended to without destroying any trees. Having left his uniform jacket and his blaster in the shuttle, he strolled down to the ground and walked the short distance between the shuttle and the house.

Erie awaited him at the door. She pounced on him and hugged him as soon as he opened the outer screen door. "Armie!" she said delightedly. There was no comment on what had happened the last time; it was as if she'd forgotten. Or maybe it just wasn't relevant to her current condition. "Will you come garden with me?"

The weather was summery, so he supposed there could be a garden, and it was possible that some of the food they had indeed came from a garden, but he didn't see one anywhere. "Sure, lead the way," he said.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him around the side of the house. There, in the back, was a patch of dirt. "This is our garden," she said, pointing at the moist soil.

"What are you growing?" he asked. He didn't see any evidence of anything growing in the garden patch.

"We took the seeds out of our fruit and veggietables and we're planting them. _I_ 'm planting them. My brothers helped me dig the dirt, but they don't care about seeds."

He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from correcting her pronunciation. "What fruit and vegetable seeds are you planting?" he asked.

"Watermelons and strawberries and cucumbers," she said. She picked up a glass jar—these children owned a lot of glass for people who probably should be using plastic—and held it up to him. "Our seeds. Some are just smushed, but some are real seeds we took out." She crouched down by the patch of soil and picked out a portion of the inside of a cucumber and turned to the dirt.

Hux had never been a gardener. He'd never had the opportunity to be a gardener. When his class in school studied about plants by putting seeds in dirt inside a clear plastic cup, he had paid little attention. Seeds were irrelevant to his life. He would never be a farmer. Yet his obsession with organization took hold here in combination with the gardening. "Let's make rows so we know what's growing where," he suggested.

"Rows?" she asked.

"We have watermelons, strawberries, and cucumbers, so we put them in three rows. Like this." He bent over and drew a straight line along one edge of the dirt patch. When he pulled back, his finger was filthy with mud. He cringed, and then laughed. "Here's one. I'll draw two more and let you decide what to put where."

"I want the rows going the other direction," she said.

He used his boot to smooth over the line he'd drawn. Then, with his finger, he drew three lines going in the other direction. His boots were muddy where he'd stepped in the dirt and most of his fingers were dirt-covered as well. "What do you want to plant where?" he asked.

"Cucumbers in the middle 'cause I like them less," she said.

"Okay, put some seeds in the middle row."

"You plant, too," she said.

"I'll plant the outside row. Do you want watermelons or strawberries there?"

"Strawberries."

He took out a mushy strawberry and looked at the tiny seeds. Did he plant them one by one or would dropping a strawberry in the dirt be sufficient? Pretending he knew what he was doing, he took pinches of strawberry and crouched down by the edge to place the seeds in the dirt. As he leaned forward, he lost his balance and fell on his knees into the dirt patch. He just barely bit back a curse. He was going to be covered in mud by the time they were done.

Erie, who was kneeling in the center of the patch, had mud all over her bare legs, smudges on her shorts and her tank top shirt, and dirt smears up to her elbows. She didn't seem to notice or care. "You're not planting, Armie," she said.

He returned his attention to the strawberries and slowly buried each piece neatly into a pocket of soil, and then covered over each one with another handful of dirt. He hoped that was the right way to plant. If they didn't grow any strawberries, they could blame him. By the time he'd finished, his hands were covered in dirt, the cuffs of his shirt were brown, and the tip of his nose itched fiercely because he knew he couldn't scratch it.

He couldn't believe he was doing this.

"Do you like watermelons?" she asked. She poured watermelon seeds out of the jar and into her hand.

"I haven't eaten watermelon in a long time," he said.

"How long?" she asked.

"Hm, I think twenty-five years."

"That's less than thirty?" 

"Yes."

"And more than twenty?"

"Yes. It's in the middle of twenty and thirty."

"I can count to thirty," she said.

He smiled. "Show me how you can count to thirty."

Although she had struggled with twenty-five, she was quite capable of counting to thirty by ones. She finished and smiled proudly. "See?"

"Can you count by twos?" he asked.

"By twos?"

"Yes. Every other number, like: two, four, six, eight...."

"Two, four, six, eight?" she asked.

"Right," he said. "What comes next?"

She counted on her muddy fingers. "Um, ten."

"Good. What comes after ten?"

"I only have ten fingers."

He smiled again. "Plant the watermelon seeds farther apart so that the plants can grow big."

"Because watermelons are bigger than cucumbers?" she asked.

"Exactly." He remained on his knees—they were already dirty—to watch her plant the watermelon seeds. She sort of had the idea on planting them farther apart, but they were still very close together. He didn't mention it. This was her garden, not his; he would let her have fun. And if nothing grew—which was entirely possible—at least she would have been able to dig in the dirt.

"When can I eat them?" she asked as she was finishing the watermelon seeds.

"You have to give them a chance to grow," he said.

"How do they grow?" she asked.

"Well...first they put down roots." He was drawing on education from almost thirty years before. "Then a little stem comes out from the seed and grows up through the dirt. These are tiny green sprouts. This baby plant gets food from the soil to grow bigger. It needs sunlight and water and food to grow. It turns the sunlight into food. Then it makes flowers and from these flowers grow your fruits and vegetables."

"Wow," she said, eyes wide. "So like two days?"

"More like a month."

"A month is _forever_ ," she said.

"You can practice counting. When you've counted thirty days, you might have some strawberries or cucumbers to nibble on," he said.

"You don't nibble on cucumbers," she corrected.

"Then you can nibble on the strawberries," he said. He wouldn't mind a strawberry to nibble on right now.

"Will you read to me?" she asked.

He looked down at his hands, and her hands, and both of their clothes. He could not get any dirtier than this. What would he say when he returned to the _Supremacy_ in mud-covered clothing? "We're too dirty to read," he said.

"There's a hose," she said. "We can rinse off."

"What about our clothes?" he asked.

" _I_ can change _mine_."

He would just have to deal with dirty knees and muddy cuffs. When his hands were clean, he could roll his sleeves up to his elbows and ignore the mud. "Let's go clean up," he said.

The hose water was _cold_. He rinsed the mud off her arms, legs, and face first in hope that the water would be warmer after it ran for a minute. He was disappointed. Under the icy water, he rinsed the mud off his hands and boots. His knees would just stay dirty. "Okay, go change your clothes and I'll get the books."

By the time he'd come back to the house with his books, she'd changed into clean clothes: shorts and another tank top. "How come you dress like you're going to work?" she asked.

"Because I come from work," he said.

"You don't come from home?"

"I live on the same spaceship where I work," he explained. "So I always dress like this."

"You should dress in purple."

"I'll take that into consideration."

"What books did you bring me?" she asked.

He let her look at the books while he settled down into the grass in the warm sunlight. She made herself comfortable on his lap and he started to read.

When he'd finished with two of the books, he looked at the sky and determined that it was time for his visit to end and for him to return to the _Supremacy_. He didn't want Phasma to get too comfortable as substitute Supreme Leader. One of these times she might refuse to give it back. Hux knew that Ren would help him get it back, but he didn't want it to come to that.

"It's time for me to go home," he said.

"Can I come with you?" she asked, looking up at him from her place on his lap.

His mouth opened to say, no, that could never happen. "Yes."

"And I can stay the night?"

His mind was busy trying to figure out why his mouth had just said the opposite of what his brain was thinking. "Sure." And it did it again. He couldn't be serious. He'd already had a nine-year-old on the _Supremacy_ and that had turned into shit. A six-year-old would be worse. But this was different; this was Erie, not his daughter, and he wanted to show her his real life. It was only one night.

She jumped up, grinning, and hit her elbow painfully against his jaw. "What do I bring?" she asked. The backs of her legs had smears of dirt on them from his muddy knees.

"Bring your pajamas and clean clothes for tomorrow and your toothbrush and a comb." He tried to think if there was anything else. "If you sleep with a stuffed toy, bring that too."

"You can help me pack," she said.

"Okay," he said, and he followed her into the house.

"Armie is letting me stay the night at his house!" she announced as she walked in the door.

Both JJ and Cay appeared immediately. "Why are you taking her away from us?" JJ asked.

Hux had forgotten about this part. "It's just one night. She asked to see where I lived. I promise I'll bring her back in the morning."

Cay eyed him suspiciously and asked Erie, "Did you ask to go with him?"

"Uh-huh," she said.

"And you'll be okay sleeping in a strange bed in a strange bedroom?" Cay asked.

"Uh-huh."

"And _you_ 'll bring her back early if she wants to come back early?" Cay asked him.

"Of course," he said. "She'll be safe with me. I promise."

JJ and Cay looked at each other. Finally, JJ said, "Okay, you can go."

Erie bolted up the stairs to her bedroom and Hux followed at a slower pace.

"What happened to her legs?" Cay called after him.

"Gardening," he answered.

While Erie was packing, he got a washcloth wet in the refresher and used it to wipe the smears of dirt off her legs. Then he rinsed it out and hung it up and returned to her bedroom to help her pack. She had a bag of the appropriate size and she was putting clothes inside it.

"What are you bringing?" he asked.

"This shirt and these shorts and these underpants and my pajamas and clean socks," she said, showing him each one as she named it. "My brush is here and my toothbrush is in the 'fresher." She handed the bag to him and grabbed her toothbrush. He helped her wrap it in toilet paper so it wouldn't get dirty in her bag.

Finally, he took her to his new shuttle and closed the loading ramp. He helped her onto the co-pilot's seat, sat down in the pilot's seat, and prepared the shuttle to take off. With a passenger, he felt unusually anxious. The other children would kill him if she came back injured. And what if he crashed and they both died? He tried to focus. They'd be fine.

She watched as he got the shuttle off the ground. "Whoa!" she said, looking out the viewport as the ground became farther and farther away. "I can't see the house anymore," she said. She sounded anxious. Had she ever been in a ship before? In her memory, had she ever been out of sight of the house? He hoped that she didn't change her mind, but it would be easier if she did.

"My home is a long way away," he said cautiously. Soon he would chart a course through hyperspace and it would be harder to turn back from there.

"How far do you travel to get to me?" she asked.

He didn't know the distance in light years and he didn't know how to explain light years to a six-year-old. "About an hour," he said.

"Just to see me?" she asked.

He could have explained that an hour wasn't really that long, but he didn't. "That's right. Just to see you." He charted their course and readied the shuttle to make the jump. "Hang on," he said, though there was neither a reason to hang on nor anything to hang on to. He engaged the hyperdrive. For a moment, the stars became long streaks.

Erie hung on to her seat and stared wide-eyed at the stars. "What was that?" she asked, sounding anxious again.

"We're going so fast that the stars can't keep up," he explained. He couldn't figure out a more accurate description of what had just happened. Watching her face, he saw a pout coming on, and he did not want to deal with that again. "I have one more book," he said. "Do you want me to read it to you?"

The pout remained.

"Or you could read it to me. I bet you're a good reader, Erie."

She hesitated, and then said, "Okay."

He retrieved the third book and made himself comfortable on the floor with his back propped up against the wall. He would have taken her on his lap in the pilot's seat, but he was afraid that his knees would get her dirty again. The mud was dry, but it was still there. She should be safe in their usual position.

She settled down onto his lap with her legs sticking straight out and opened the book on her lap. She pressed her fingertip to the first word on the front cover and read aloud, "My...white...shoes. My white shoes."

"Good," he said.

She opened to the first page and placed her finger under the first word. "I love my white shoes," she read slowly, moving her finger under each word as she read it. The story was about a beloved pair of white shoes that turn different colors as the owner walks through different substances. Erie read it with some difficulty. He had to help her with some words, but she was a fairly capable reader.

When she'd finished, she sighed. "I like it better when you read to me."

He smiled, but didn't express his opinion either way. "What was your favorite part?" he asked.

"The shoes turned brown like yours when you stepped in my garden." She giggled. "What are we going to do at your house?"

"Do you want to see the library? You can pick out some books," he offered.

"Your house has a library?" she asked.

"I live on a spaceship with a lot of other people. We have a really big library." He was looking forward to seeing her face when she saw her first library. He was looking forward to seeing her reaction when she saw the _Supremacy_ for the first time. She hadn't understood two million people—and it was really more like two and a half million—when he'd told her that many people lived on the _Supremacy_ , so she'd be in for a surprise when she saw the Mega-class Star Dreadnought.

"Will you read me My White Shoes?" she asked. "I like listening and looking at the pictures."

"Sure," he said, and he picked up the book again.

They read their way through the hour-long journey. He made sure that she was seated and looking out the viewport when the shuttle reverted to normal space in view of the _Supremacy_ , his home.

Her mouth fell open as she saw the ship for the first time. "What's that?" she asked.

"That's my home," he said. "I live there with a lot of different people. More people than you can count."

"How big is it?" she asked.

"You're looking at it. You tell me."

Her mouth twisted sideways as she thought. "Is it bigger than a planet?" she asked.

"It's smaller than a planet."

"I don't know anything else big."

"You can see it, so you know it's that big," he said.

As he steered the shuttle into the hangar, a wave of dread caught him off guard. He drew in a shaky breath. He should have turned her down; he shouldn't have brought her here. It was dangerous for her—and dangerous for him, too. He was Supreme Leader; he shouldn't care what other people thought, but he didn't want them to judge him, particularly since this was the second child he'd had aboard the ship with him. He drew in several deep breaths. He was Supreme Leader. No matter how insecure he felt, they couldn't question his authority...unless they killed him.

After he returned the shuttle to its proper location inside the hangar, he walked out of the shuttle and into the hangar with Erie holding his hand and her bag over his other shoulder. Already people were staring at him. He pretended not to notice.

"This room is bigger than my playhouse," she said, craning her neck to look up and around.

He didn't know the dimensions of the hangar, but it was enormous, and it wasn't the only hangar on the _Supremacy_. "It's a lot bigger than the playhouse," he said. "We'll put your bag in my quarters, and then I'll show you the library."

"Your what?" she asked.

"My quarters. That's where I live."

"So your house?"

"It's several rooms hooked together. I'll show you when we get there."

She seemed to be intimidated into silence as they crossed to the hangar door and entered the corridor. She walked more slowly than he did, so he had to adjust his pace several times so that he wasn't dragging her. As they walked, she looked around; she was taking in everything. He was certain she'd have questions later; he hoped he was equipped to handle them.

When he went in to set down her bag, he went to the comm and ordered that quarters adjacent to his be prepared for a guest. He had intentionally chosen an empty section of corridor for his quarters when he'd selected them because he didn't want neighbors. As a result, he could house any guests in the same area if he wanted to. With his previous guests, he hadn't wanted to.

After that was taken care of, he took Erie to the library. The walk there was slow and she asked him questions about everything she saw. What were the walls made of? Who lived here? What kind of alien was the guy who just walked past? How tall was the ship? Where did everybody live? As they reached the library, she asked, "Why are they called quarters? Yours had two rooms and they looked full size."

He realized that he had no idea why accommodations were known as quarters. "I don't know why. Some people use the word cabin. It just means a place where you live. Like you have your own bedroom."

"That's your house? Just those little rooms?" she asked.

"That's mine, yes. I got you the rooms next door." He pushed open the door to the library. "Here we are."

She stepped inside and stopped, gaping. "Those are... _books_?"

"Yes, and you can borrow as many as you want," he said.

"Borrow?"

"You can take them with you now and return them later," he said.

She continued staring. "Where are the kids' books?" she asked.

"They're upstairs. I'll take you there."

She was fascinated by the children's books. He stood back and watched as she took book after book off the shelves and looked at it. But instead of making a stack of the books she wanted, she returned them to the shelves. She wasn't very good about putting the individual books back in the same tiny space where she'd gotten them, but he'd let the librarians worry about that.

"I want all of them," she said when she was done.

"Choose two and I'll read them to you tonight," he said. "You can come back."

She nodded. But choices seemed to bring out the worst in her. "I want...." She bit her lip. "That one. And...no, that one." She picked out two, put them back in the wrong places, and tried two more.

He couldn't tolerate any more books in the wrong places. "Shut your eyes and choose two," he said. "You can get more some other time. Go on. Shut your eyes."

She looked dubious.

He stood behind her and covered her eyes with his hands. Her face was so small and fragile. "Choose two." He felt her expression change, and he imagined she was pouting, but she chose two books without looking. He uncovered her eyes and steered her away from the bookshelves. "I'll teach you how to check out books. That way the librarians know what's gone and who took it and when." He had a bad habit of taking and returning books without checking them out or in, but he would be a good example for her.

"What's a librarian?" she asked.

"A librarian works in a library."

They checked out the books and he let her carry them while he held her other hand as they walked back to his quarters. A few officers passed them and stared, but wisely said nothing. A whole group of stormtroopers in white armor passed them and one ran into another because he had stopped to look at Hux and the little girl. So much for keeping the visit quiet.

"Who are they?" Erie asked in a whisper when the stormtroopers were gone.

"Soldiers," he said. That was all.

As they walked, he was about to ask what she wanted for dinner, but decided against it as he was about to open his mouth. It wasn't only that he didn't want to present her with another choice, but also that she would have no idea what was available on the menu.

Back in his quarters, he used the comm to order a few items. He'd give her first choice and he'd eat whatever she didn't. He was about to sit down when he realized suddenly that he was still wearing his trousers with the muddy knees, no uniform jacket, and his sleeves rolled up; he had completely forgotten. That could have been another reason everyone had stared.

"Your table is too high," Erie said. She was so small that she would have struggled even to climb onto the chair, and even in the chair, she would have trouble reaching the table. The next time he had her over, he would need a shorter table, but this time they could eat on the floor.

"Let's eat on the floor," he said. He looked down at his clothes again. "I'm going to go change my clothes first. My knees are still dirty." She was still contemplating the table when he ducked into his bedroom to grab clean clothes and carried them into the refresher to change.

He peeled off his dirty trousers and looked at the mud caked on the knees. How had he walked around the _Supremacy_ in those without noticing anything amiss? His face was hot with embarrassment just thinking about it. Certainly a Supreme Leader could do what he wanted, but he needed to keep some decorum about him.

He was buttoning his clean white shirt when he heard a wail from the other room. "Shit," he muttered and left the refresher with his shirt untucked. "What happened?" he asked.

Erie lay on the floor with the chair on top of her; she was holding her elbow and crying. "The chair," she sobbed.

He picked up the chair and knelt down beside her. "Your elbow hurts?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Let me see," he said, and touched her elbow with his hand. It wasn't swollen or bruised; it probably hurt, but it wasn't damaged. "Your elbow is going to be okay," he said. She was still crying. "Do you want me to kiss it better?"

"Uh-huh," she said.

He kissed her elbow, and she stopped crying. Right then, the door buzzer went off; dinner had arrived. He looked down at himself again: barefoot, shirt untucked, one of his suspenders still unclipped, no uniform jacket. Frustration and anxiety welled up inside of him, but he couldn't express them. He hastily tucked in his shirt and clipped his other suspender with the strap twisted. The buzz came again, and he opened the door.

The delivery person looked at him in a way that made him feel like he wasn't fooling anyone. As long as no one thought he was undressed for his six-year-old guest, he would survive this. "Thank you," he said calmly and took the trays. The door slid shut automatically.

"Dinner?" she asked. Her face was still wet with tears.

"That's right," he said. He set the two trays down on the floor and excused himself to the refresher to finish dressing. He tucked his shirt in properly and clipped his suspenders on straight. He could forgo the uniform jacket for the rest of the evening. When he came back to the living area, she was already eating. She had sampled a little bit of every dish he'd chosen. He felt annoyance, breathed it away, and sat down to eat around the bites she had taken.

After dinner, as promised, he read the two books to her. For once he had a comfortable position on the sofa instead of on the floor. It was a cozy, peaceful way to end the day. Near the end of the second book, she yawned, and he knew it was time for bed.

"Bedtime," he said when he'd finished. He anticipated a struggle or some contrariness, but she did neither.

"Where's my bed?" she asked.

"I had another room made especially for you," he said.

"Does it have a bathtub for my bath?" she asked.

He swallowed. "We're going to skip your bath tonight. There's no bathtub. I'd have to...." He'd have to get one installed. Maintenance would kill him if he asked them to install a bathtub, but he would do it. There would be plumbing to change—the adjacent quarters didn't even have a water shower yet—and a bathtub to fit through the doors, but he was Supreme Leader. He could have anything he requested.

He didn't feel very supreme right now.

"You washed me off with the hose after gardening," she supplied.

"Right," he said. He picked up her bag—and grabbed a tube of toothpaste while he was thinking about it. "Let's go look at your room."

The quarters next door were smaller, which was fine, but also dark and uninviting. Nothing had been customized from the basic installation. There were no personal touches. Hux was not fond of personal touches—his quarters were sparse in comparison to most he'd seen, though he'd admit he hadn't seen many—but this place was bare. Next time he'd make it look homey.

Why did he keep thinking about next time?

"You can go into the refresher and change into your pajamas and brush your teeth," he said.

"Can you help me brush my teeth?" she asked.

He wasn't sure how helpful he could be. There wasn't much to the task. "Change into your pajamas and I'll help you afterward." He sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for her to change.

She didn't need help brushing her teeth, but she did need help reaching the sink. A stool was on the rapidly lengthening list of things he'd need before next time.

He tucked her into bed, left a light on in the living area so it wouldn't be completely dark, and started back toward his own quarters. As his hand touched the door, she called after him, "I'm scared, Armie!"

He returned to the bed and perched on the edge. "You'll be okay. I'm leaving the light on over there."

"I'm still scared."

"I don't know what else I can...." He sighed. "Do you want to sleep in my bed? I'll sleep on the sofa. But just this once."

"Okay," she said. "Is your bed comfy?"

"Not really," he said.

She giggled. He was serious.

He tucked her into his own bed and returned to the living area. He sat down on the sofa and just sat for a long time as his mind unwound and tried to process everything that had happened that day. He wanted to go to the gym, but he couldn't tonight. Finally, he crept into the refresher and turned the lights out on the way back to the sofa. He lay down, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep, but resigned to try.


	16. Sixteen: Ren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, the story is almost halfway posted. :)

Early in the morning—though he didn't know what morning it was—Kylo Ren released himself from medbay.

He still hurt, though the pain was mild compared to what it had been at first. But he'd had a chance to think while he was lying there alone. He'd pretended not to notice Hux come in several times, but the last time, as soon as Hux was gone, Ren had realized how terribly lonely he was. He didn't know what he'd do without Hux. That was what he had to tell him this morning.

The day before, they'd given him drugs to stop the pain, and while the relief had been pleasant, he didn't like the mental effects. His mind felt slow and muddled. Even though the pain had returned, he'd refused any more drugs. He was tough. He could endure pain. Pain gave him power. That made him laugh.

He crept out of medbay and stretched his limbs as he walked back to his quarters. It was the right time for his daily visit to the gym. He tested his arms and legs. He'd do some mild stretching, maybe ride a stationary bicycle, or try one of the weight machines with half the weight he usually lifted.

When he returned to his quarters, he entered his bedroom to pick up his workout clothes. He walked past his bed, and stopped. It was neatly made, perfectly made, in different sheets than he'd left it in. Was he going crazy? No, the last time he'd been in his own bed, he'd left Hux in it. Of course Hux would leave it neater than he found it.

He stripped off the pathetic excuses for clothes medbay had finally given him and looked at his body in the mirror. The wounds had mostly healed on the surface, thanks to some additional bacta treatment they'd given him, but the tissue underneath wasn't back to normal yet. He had counted how many blaster bolts had hit him: fifteen. In the past, his failure and ignominious rescue might have made him wish he'd died, but he was glad—grateful—that he was alive. There were still so many things he wanted to do. And a large portion of them involved Hux.

He dressed in his workout clothes and stopped to catch his breath. That was not a good sign, but he would adjust. His body would go back to the way it used to be, as long as he gave it time. Before he could reconsider, he headed for the gym.

The empty gym looked bigger, somehow, and more intimidating. He gingerly sat down on one of the mats. Usually he didn't stretch to avoid injury, but some easy stretching would feel good now. He started with his arms. Whenever he felt a twinge of pain, he lessened the stretch. Most of it felt good. He wasn't pushing himself too far. When he'd finished there, he climbed onto a stationary bicycle and took a slow ride with minimal resistance. And that was enough.

Since he was alone, he showered in the locker room because the gym had water showers, and he needed some hot water right now. He had to put his workout clothes on afterward for the walk back to his quarters, but they weren't too sweaty.

Back in his quarters, he stepped under the sonic shower for a minute before he dressed. He brushed his teeth—he'd been looking forward to that treat for days—and combed his hair. He dressed in some of his more casual clothes—not his uniform; he wasn't on duty—and left to go find Hux.

Hux would probably still be asleep, but Ren might very well just slide into bed with him and let Hux wake up in his arms. Despite his claim of not sleeping well, or at all, Hux was a heavy sleeper whenever Ren was with him; he probably wouldn't wake up at the intrusion. Ren was imagining how nice it would be to sleep with Hux when he opened the door very quietly and found Hux asleep, curled up on the couch in the living area.

Hux was tall enough that he barely fit on the couch. It had to be uncomfortable. So why would Hux choose to sleep on his own couch? Surely this wasn't another solution to his sleeping problem, though if it was, he was indeed asleep. His face was peaceful, his lips slightly parted, his red hair fallen across his face. Ren wanted to kiss him awake, but he also didn't want to interrupt his sleep. He sat down on the floor, leaned his back against the couch, and waited.

Within moments, Hux stirred and Ren turned around to look at him. Hux's eyes blinked open several times before they stayed that way. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Ren intended to tell him that he'd come to apologize, but kissed him instead. Hux gave him a slow, sleepy kiss, but then put his hand on the center of Ren's chest and gently pushed him away. "What?" Ren asked.

"There's a six-year-old sleeping in my bed," Hux said softly.

Ren felt a moment of jealousy that he had to share Hux with a child. But then he thought about all the times he'd gone off for days and left Hux alone, and decided that Hux deserved some other company. "How long has she—"

"Shh," Hux interrupted.

Ren lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "How long has she been here?"

"I spent yesterday afternoon with her, and then agreed to take her overnight," Hux said. "We were...gardening."

"Gardening?" Ren repeated.

"That's what it's called when one plants seeds in a—"

"I know what gardening is. I just can't picture you...and dirt." He couldn't even imagine Hux getting close to dirt. How would he manage to plant seeds without getting filthy? For most people, that would be impossible, but this was Hux.

"My hands were covered in dirt. My shirt cuffs were so muddy I had to roll them up. The knees of my trousers coated with mud. And...and I came back to the _Supremacy_ and forgot and walked to the library and back here without changing my clothes." Hux looked distraught about this.

Ren covered his mouth, but his shoulders shook with laughter. "I would have paid— _paid_ to see Supreme Leader Hux covered in mud," he whispered.

"Don't laugh at me," Hux grumbled. He pushed himself upright. "The nightmares are back, but I got almost five hours of sleep. Now, tell me. What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, came to..." Ren started to say, but paused in the middle. Why was he having so much trouble apologizing? "I shouldn't have avoided you when you came to visit me. You were being nice and I wasn't."

Hux leaned down and kissed him gently, a silent acceptance of his not-quite apology. "When were you released from medbay? How are you feeling?"

"I released myself this morning. I came here after I went to the gym and—" Ren paused when Hux gave a long-suffering sigh. "After I went to the gym and took a shower. Why the sigh?"

"You broke out of medbay and went to the gym," Hux said incredulously.

"I didn't _break_ out," Ren said.

Hux just looked at him and waited.

"I sneaked out."

Hux rolled his eyes.

"But I feel..." Ren stopped before he lied and said he felt fine. "I feel okay. I'm a little sore still. But I wouldn't let them drug me again, so what good was lying there alone going to do me?" He expected Hux to comment that he didn't have to be alone, that he had chosen to be alone by driving him away, but Hux didn't say a word about it.

"What happened?" Hux asked instead. "How were you injured?"

Ren wished he'd said something about the word alone instead. "I don't want to talk about it," he said.

"Okay, let's talk about something else," Hux said.

Ren was suspicious about his agreeableness. As he tried to think of something else to talk about, he realized that he did want to talk about what had happened; he just had to think of a way to say it. "Give me a minute," he said. In Hux's silence, Ren focused on putting together words until he came up with adequate words to talk about his failure. "We were on a mission. There were...there were fifteen of them with blasters. And they fired them at me. And they hit me. Fifteen times."

Hux didn't speak for a moment. Ren hoped that he was being patient in case Ren had more to say, instead of judging him for his failure. When he did speak, it was only to ask, "Why didn't you stop them?"

"I couldn't," Ren said bluntly.

"You couldn't use the Force?" Hux asked.

Ren nodded. His eyes prickled and he felt one side of his mouth forcing a half-smile of pain. "Let's talk about something else."

"What's the weirdest thing you've ever eaten?" Hux asked.

Ren smiled with relief and a warm feeling that was completely unfamiliar to him. He said, "That would have to be...." Hux caressed his cheek and Ren turned his face into the touch. "There's a delicacy on...I don't recall where...but it's actually dung."

Hux's fingers curled as his face twisted with disgust. "Dung. That's revolting."

Ren grinned. "It was surprisingly not revolting as long as I didn't think about what it was. It reminded me of...do you know what dirt tastes like?"

"No," Hux said. "Why would I know what dirt tasted like?"

"There's another delicacy that is dirt. It's not bad. You mix it with some kind of broth and bake it and it turns out like mud cakes, but good mud cakes," Ren said. Hux's expression of horror spurred him on. "Anyway, the dung tastes a bit like dirt, but it's pungent in this moderately unpleasant way, like—"

"How about the best thing you've ever eaten?" Hux interrupted.

"Am I grossing you out?" Ren asked.

"Yes."

Ren's first answer regarding the best food was something his mother had cooked when he was a child, but he didn't want to get into that. He had a better idea. He crooked his finger, beckoning Hux to come closer, and when Hux had leaned down, Ren whispered in his ear, "Your ass."

Hux sat straight up, his face flushing red.

Ren was about to beckon him back down for something even better when he heard light footsteps and changed his mind. Erie emerged from the bedroom. She wore children's pajamas with stripes of various shades of pink, which clashed with her red hair. Her hair was a mess and she had dried drool on her cheek. When she saw him, she stopped in place.

"Why's your friend here, Armie?" she asked.

"I'm going to get you breakfast," Ren announced. He struggled to his feet, bracing himself on the couch as he went from seated to upright. Without looking at Hux—Ren didn't want to see his expression, regardless of whether it was judgment or concern—he caught the breath stolen by the pain, and headed for the door.

"Is your friend okay?" Erie asked behind him.

The door shut before Ren could hear the answer.

He stood outside and waited for his body to adjust to standing again. The position itself wasn't a problem; changing the position was. Pretending not to be embarrassed, he started walking toward the officers' lounge. It was about breakfast time for the first shift, so there would be plenty of options. He didn't know what the girl liked to eat, but if she didn't like anything that he brought, she would be hungry.

In the lounge, he filled his tray with enough food for three people. He noticed an officer he didn't recognize staring at him. "Hungry, Ren?" the officer asked.

"Starving," he replied. He didn't appreciate it when people who used to be his inferiors called him Ren, though he didn't have an official rank that could be used before his name.

"That's enough food for three people." The officer's tone had shifted. A few others had stopped to watch.

"I'd hope so." Ren wanted to be angry. Anger would be normal, would be appropriate for this disrespectful tone. But he didn't feel it, didn't feel the liquid anger filling him as though he were an empty vessel. "There will be three of us eating it," he said and he left before the interaction could become a confrontation.

As he walked back toward Hux's quarters, he wished he'd gotten angry. He could have broken things. He could have shouted. He could have used the Force to choke the disrespectful officer until he regretted what he'd said. In the past, he would have done these things. Not doing them now felt like he was missing something.

When he returned to Hux's quarters, the two of them were seated at the table together. Erie had changed into clothes—shorts and a t-shirt—and her hair was combed and her face washed clean. Her legs dangled from the tall chair and the table hit her about chest level. She was going to have trouble eating in that position.

He set the tray on the table and Hux divided the different items amongst the three of them. "I can't reach," Erie said, predictably.

Hux helped her down, studied the chair, and took a cushion off the couch to use as a booster seat. It worked surprisingly well. He lifted her back up onto the cushion. "Better?" he asked.

She was already eating. "Uh-huh," she said through a mouthful of food.

"Be very careful," Hux said in a way that suggested there had already been an incident with this chair or another.

Ren carefully sat down with the two of them and tried to think of what to say. He could have easily held a conversation with Hux alone—they'd been doing that before Erie got up—but he had no clue how to interact with a six-year-old. Was Erie the third wheel here, or was he? "What do you think of the _Supremacy_ , Erie?" he asked.

"The what?" she asked around a mouthful of food.

"That's the name of this ship," Hux explained.

"It's big. Armie didn't tell me his house was so big."

Ren wanted to pick at the way she called it Hux's house, but he didn't. "Did he give you a tour?" he asked instead.

"We saw the library." Erie's eyes were wide with what must have been remembered enjoyment.

"Erie had never been in a library before," Hux said. He turned to her. "How many books did you find that you want to read?"

"All books," she said. She looked at Ren, and then away from him. "Armie, is your friend evil?"

Ren's first reaction was laughter, but he deliberately stopped himself from reacting. He wanted to see how Hux handled this.

"No, Mr. Ren is not evil," Hux said. Ren had to resist rolling his eyes at the word mister.

"But he's on the dark side. He even told us," Erie said.

"Mr. Ren and I are on the same side," Hux said.

Ren liked that tactic. He waited to see if Erie would make the connection and ask if Hux was on the dark side.

Erie either didn't catch on or didn't care. "Is your friend happy we saved his life?" she asked Hux.

"He's very grateful," Hux said.

Ren felt even more awkward. He didn't want to remember that part.

"What about the guys we killed? Were they okay?" Erie asked.

Hux turned to Ren for help, but Ren had no idea how to handle that one.

"No, they were dead. That's permanent," Hux said. "Why don't you tell Mr. Ren about your garden."

Erie grinned proudly. "Armie helped me plant the garden. We had strawberries and cucumbers and watermelons and we mushed up the strawberries and cut up the cucumbers and ate the watermelons but spit out the seeds. Watermelon seeds are black. Cucumber seeds are white. Strawberry seeds are, um, black. We planted so many. I got my everything dirty. Does your friend like gardening, Armie?"

"Do you like gardening?" Hux asked.

"I've never tried," Ren said.

"Mr. Ren has never tried gardening," Hux said.

Ren was done. He wasn't ready to sit here with Hux and Erie like they were some kind of family. He knew that he would have to share Hux with Erie from now on, but he would have to ease into that slowly.

"I have places to be," he said. It was a lie. He had nowhere to be. "Enjoy your breakfast." He left them to be their own happy family.


	17. Seventeen: Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we're past the halfway mark. Whew!

Armitage Hux understood Ren's sudden departure. He knew that he would have trouble adjusting if Ren suddenly had a child, but he hoped that time would improve the relationship between his two favorite people. After breakfast, he knew it was time to take Erie home and return to the duties he'd handed off to Phasma.

Following another difficult trip to the library for reading material on the trip home, Hux walked hand-in-hand with Erie to the hangar. After Ren had left, she'd seemed confused about what had just happened, but had recovered. On the walk to the hangar, she asked out of nowhere, "Who is your friend?"

"My friend is Mr. Ren," Hux said.

"But who is Mr. Ren?" she asked.

He had many answers to that question. Ren was his boyfriend. Ren was the former Supreme Leader. Ren was a dark Force warrior. Ren was Jedi Killer. Ren was these things and more. But what did Erie want to know? And what was appropriate to tell her? "He works with me," he said.

"But who is he?"

"I don't understand what you're asking. Do you want to know his name? What his job is? What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Yes!"

He suspected that she was being contrary intentionally, but he didn't let himself get frustrated with her. "His name is Kylo Ren. We work together. He's my friend." _He's my lover._

"Oh." She seemed satisfied. He wished he'd thought to say his name the first time.

They boarded the shuttle. He helped her onto the co-pilot's seat and made sure she had her bag and the book they were borrowing for this journey. With her intense scrutiny, he got clearance for departure, guided the shuttle out of the hangar and away from the _Supremacy_ , and charted a course through hyperspace. This was getting easier every time. Soon he'd be comfortable with the whole thing.

"Okay, let's read," he said, and went to find a place to make himself comfortable.

She plopped contentedly down in his lap and opened the book. "I'll read it, then you read it," she said.

"All right, go ahead."

With a little help, she read the book to him. She was so proud of her reading skills, and he made sure to compliment her whenever it felt right. That made her happy and her happiness made him happy. He didn't get this pure enjoyment anywhere else. His dates with Ren were very enjoyable as well, but that was a different kind of enjoyment. He'd had a taste of this eight years ago, but being with Erie was better even than those good memories.

"What were you like when you were a kid?" she asked suddenly.

"Skinny," he said. He didn't want to talk about his childhood.

"No, what were you _like_?"

"I was scared of my father because he hit me and called me names. I don't like to think about that time in my life," he said. It had been ages since he'd laid it out like that. Maybe he never had.

Erie patted his leg. "Do you cry when you think about it? Cay says her parents hurt her when she was little. Sometimes she cries at night."

"No, I don't cry," he said. He didn't cry about that anyway. In the past months, he had cried more than he had in his whole adult life before that, but it hadn't been about his father or even his childhood. "Did your parents ever hurt you?"

"I don't have parents," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't remember my old parents. I was only...two. I can do math. I did six minus four equals two."

Relieved, he asked, "What about five minus four?"

"One."

"Four minus four?"

"Zero."

"Three minus four?"

"You can't minus three and four," she said.

He smiled. "Why not?"

She had to stop to think about that one. "'Cause if you have three apples there aren't four to take away. Just three."

"Can't argue with that," he said.

"Now you read to me."

He read the book to her and they had only a little while afterward to relax before the shuttle arrived at her planet. He had to return to the pilot's seat to land the shuttle, and then it was time to take her home. As he walked with her toward the house, she clung to his hand.

"Goodbye, Erie," he said at the door.

She hugged him. "You're never coming back," she said, sounding near tears.

He knelt down in front of her. "I promise I'll come back. It will be a few days again, but I'll come back." He hugged her. He'd come back; it was just as important to him as it was to her.

Cay came out to retrieve Erie. "Come in and tell me all about your visit," she said, and led Erie into the house.

Hux returned to the shuttle and made sure he got the technical matters out of the way before he allowed himself any emotions. When the shuttle was safely in hyperspace and certain not to crash into any stars on the way, he sat back in the pilot's seat. Suddenly exhausted, he slumped down and stared out the viewport. There was nothing to see.

He tried to label the emotions he felt. He was getting better at this. He felt joy that the visit had gone well and sorrow that they had parted again. He felt relief that the visit was over and hope that he'd passed her test and eagerness to see her again. But the whole event and the emotions surrounding it had sapped all his energy. It was morning and he wanted to go back to bed. More accurately, he wanted to go back to Ren's bed.

He teetered on the edge of sleep through most of the return journey. When he returned to the _Supremacy_ , he went back to his quarters first to splash cold water on his face. He ended up taking a cold shower because he hadn't gotten a chance to shower earlier. And of course, he made his bed with fresh sheets. After all that, he felt awake enough to function, which was a good thing because he had an afternoon meeting that he could not miss.

Before that, he tracked down Phasma. She was observing a game in the training center. When she saw him, she said, "Well, if it isn't the ex-Supreme Leader."

"How about lunch instead of dinner?" he asked.

"Noon, your quarters, get us something nice." She turned away from him and yelled at the boys.

He departed swiftly.

At noon, he had everything ready for a business lunch with Phasma. He didn't go as far as a tablecloth, but he'd ordered something nice from the cooks in the officers' lounge. He knew that she wouldn't order anything different alone, but she would gladly eat something special if he ordered it.

He was reading from a datapad what he'd need to know for the afternoon meeting when she entered. The chrome armor was in place, but she pulled off the helmet as soon as the door closed behind her. He knew he wouldn't find anything again, but he looked for marks on her neck as she was straightening her golden hair.

"Smells good," she said. "I can't smell a thing inside that helmet. Usually that's a good thing. Sweaty boys who never wash properly and never change their shoes."

He smiled. He was glad he didn't have to monitor the physical training of the sub-adults. He'd design the simulations and lay out the plans for training—or he had, before he'd become Supreme Leader, and that took up most of his time—but he'd never cared for contact with the youths themselves. He wondered, now that he liked one child, whether his opinions of others would change.

"You're quiet," she said.

"Tired and distracted," he explained.

"Distracted by what?" she asked.

He didn't answer. He sat down at the table and waited for her to join him.

"Don't tell me it's this girl child you've been going off to see," she said as she sat down across from him.

"It's partially her," he admitted.

"And partially Ren."

"I'll neither confirm nor deny that," he said.

She picked up her fork, set it down, and pulled off her armored gloves. Her fingers were long and slender, and the contrast between the bulk of her armor and her delicate hands was striking. She picked up her fork again and tried the food. "Good," she said when she'd finished chewing.

He wasn't hungry, but he ate anyway; he didn't want to face her questions about why he wasn't eating. "How was Supreme Leadership while I was away?" he asked. A dry, technical report would make him feel better; he was sure of that.

"I didn't have time to do everything on the list in addition to my regular duties. I'm the kind of person who sticks around and does the tasks she's been assigned instead of running off all the time for silly personal reasons." She paused, cleared her throat, waited for him. He didn't bite. "So I delegated. I have the annotated list here so you know whom to contact if you need help in these individual areas. You know it would be easier for me if you had predictable times you would be away, so that I could arrange my duties ahead of time, instead of springing your departures on me without notice. Or, you know, make it permanent."

"That's ridiculous!" he said, with more vehemence than he'd expected. "Why would I give up the position of Supreme Leader? It's what I've wanted all my life."

"Then put more effort into it. Commit to it. Act like you're doing what you've wanted all your life, not like someone pushed you into this and you'll do it halfheartedly because you're afraid to give it up."

Anger flared inside Hux. He was doing the best he could. This was his dream, and he wasn't going to give it up, but he needed time to get used to it, time to find the balance he needed. "I could have you punished for speaking to me like that," he warned.

"You could, but you won't, because you know what I say is true," she said.

"That's enough," he said, less sharply than he'd intended. "Give me the report on what happened when I was away. I need information for the meeting, not a lecture."

"That wasn't a lecture; it was a pep talk," she said. "Athletic coach here. I know the difference." Before he could comment on that, she launched into the report he'd wanted.

The rest of lunch was business, which relaxed Hux. He could deal with business. He could command subordinates. It was people closer to his rank that could unsettle him. Phasma left him when they were done eating. She donned her gloves and her helmet as she walked out the door.

For the next hour, Hux threw himself into his work. Paperwork comforted him. He was good at paperwork. He had fought hard to become a general so young. He had...made sacrifices to become Grand Marshal. But to become Supreme Leader? Nothing. He had been good at being a general. He had even been good at being Grand Marshal. It would take him time, but he would get good at being Supreme Leader. There was no other option.

He was five minutes early to the meeting. He strode into the conference room with the datapad he needed and seated himself at the head of the table. This was a meeting with his highest ranked subordinates. Their opinions and ideas mattered. He would do well to listen to them, but in the end, it was his ruling that mattered. He needed to keep confidence in that.

He began the meeting exactly on time, though one of the seats was empty, and continued speaking when the latecomer tried to sneak in. The meeting was a success. He was also good at running meetings; he had the confidence and the precision and the ability to keep to his agenda exactly on time. He was about to adjourn the meeting when one of the officers spoke up.

"Supreme Leader, we have discussed something that we need to address with you," the officer said.

Hux's stomach twisted. "Continue," he said. He felt his fingers quiver and pressed his hands flat on the tabletop to hide the shaking.

"Your guests, sir," the officer said. "The first two we understood, but the third. It's...it's inappropriate. We consulted with Captain Phasma, who informed us that you have been taking extended vacations and leaving her with the burden of your tasks. They're _your_ tasks, sir."

Their opinions and ideas mattered, but he was Supreme Leader. He could have this man, this officer, executed for insubordination if he wanted, but he didn't want that. He wanted to run away and escape this meeting and bury himself under the covers of Ren's bed, where he was safe and secure and wanted and understood.

"We request that you focus on your official duties," another officer said, apparently taking his silence as permission to continue on the same topic. "Sir."

"And stay on the _Supremacy_ alone."

Alone? Hux didn't want to be alone anymore. He had been alone for so long, and now he'd found two people who made him feel not alone, so of course he was being asked to give up one of them. Or maybe both. Was he still allowed to socialize with Ren, or was that a distraction from his official duties as well?

"Will you take your responsibilities seriously from now on, sir? We're all here to support you as Supreme Leader, but you need to be our leader."

"Yes," Hux said hoarsely. He wasn't even sure which of them was speaking to him. There was buzzing in his head. He felt sick. "Meeting adjourned," he said, picked up his datapad, and strode out of the room.

He made it down the corridor and around a corner before he had to stop. Bracing himself against the wall with one hand, he tried to figure out what had happened. They had ambushed him, but he should have been strong enough to stand up for himself and defend himself. He was Supreme Leader. But they were right; he needed to be their leader before they would respect him.

What was happening to him? What was wrong with him?

He pulled his hand back and stood on his own. He would do what they said. He would focus on his official duties and not miss work. He would not bring guests on board the _Supremacy_. He would visit Erie regularly after his duty hours ended. They would have time to do an activity, and then he'd tuck her into bed and read to her. It wouldn't be the same, but he would make her feel special and wanted...until he figured out something else.

He would be Supreme Leader, just like he was meant to be.


	18. Eighteen through Thirty-three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am never going to finish editing this story (I'm getting my bachelor's degree, and I've moved on to writing original screenplays) but I hate to leave it incomplete when the whole thing is written and all it needs is some editing. So I've uploaded chapters eighteen through thirty-three onto Google Docs. It's unedited; I don't even remember all of what happens. But...here it is, in case you're curious. I would be _honored_ if you left me a comment when/if you finish reading. I wish you all the best!
> 
> Here's the link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1pG6eid1Op3yE88r066texg3TTGFfdvz7yxa_EQs3Vew/

Kylo Ren stopped in his quarters to shower and change before he picked Hux up for their third official date. Hux didn't know it was a date yet, but he needed a distraction. He'd been sneaking off to see Erie every other night. And Ren had been away for a few days as well, but he was back now on the right every-other night, which made this the perfect night to take Hux on a date. He even knew where he was going to take him.

[The rest is on Google Docs.]


End file.
